


Nights of Gethsemane

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Bonding, Drama, Drug Use, Explicit Language, F/M, First Time, Heterosexual Sex, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mystery, Romance, Self-Harm, Sexual Content, Slash sex, Spoilers, Suspense, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-31
Updated: 2010-06-12
Packaged: 2018-10-01 02:09:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 65
Words: 363,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10178294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape, his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

[[Author notes: Hello, this was my first attempt at fanfiction. I had written a few drabbles before, but nothing over a few pages in Word. I am not a writer. It's a subject in which I need a lot of help so please give me good advice! 

Two of my friends made a musical paraody of my fic: <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8TFg9IJ6dEU> ]]

 

He woke in a room that was far too bright. He shut his eyes before giving waking a second chance. The next glance revealed a room still painfully white. He stared at the ceiling until he remembered that he wore glasses. He attempted to sit up in order to look for them, but his limbs were far too heavy to move. Closing his eyes, he rested before his third attempt.

This time, he was able to sit up. He immediately regretted doing so as his vision swam and red joined white in a confusing dance. After a few minutes, his brain finally made sense of the dizzying swirl of colours and he became aware of the fact that he was resting on a crimson bed in a white room. After that, he realized he was naked.

“Why am I naked?” he asked. He ran his hands down his chest and over his legs to make sure they really belonged to him. Fresh scars, bruises, and dried blood liberally covered nearly every inch he could see. He tried to make his legs obey him but they didn’t want to move. He collapsed back on the bed and attempted to gather his thoughts. He remembered his name: Harry Potter. He remembered what he was: a wizard. Everything else was sort of blurry. 

“ _Accio glasses_ ,” he murmured but nothing happened. He opened his eyes to examine his hands in case the fault lay there found manacles below his wrists. They were made of metal that looked silvery to his fuzzy vision. Running his fingers around the bumpy surface of the one on his left wrist, he found four half rings which ran parallel to his arm. They were evenly spaced from each other and just large enough to allow his pinky finger to slide through up to the first knuckle. He explored the rest of his body to make sure he wasn’t wearing something else strange, but he didn’t find anything. As his fingers ran over the recently healed scars, he wondered why he didn’t ache all over. He poked at a particularly nasty looking bruise he discovered on his upper right arm without any feeling of pain. 

After he grew bored of prodding his bruises and cuts, he attempted to get out of bed again. This time, his legs obeyed him and he was able to stumble over to a sink although he had to grab onto it as soon as he reached it in order to stay on his feet. He noticed coloured blobs resting along the narrow shelf behind the faucet and, clutching the sink with one hand, touched each one in turn, discovering a toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash, soap, and a comb. He turned on the taps and let the water run over his fingers for a minute before closing them and examining the toilet which was next to the sink, along with a white fluffy towel and toilet paper. 

Harry flushed the toilet to make sure it worked, and then attempted to look around the room again. There appeared to be one white wall that was striped with black bars while the floor, the ceiling, and all the other walls were dazzling white. He saw what appeared to be a dark wooden table and two matching chairs. Harry stumbled over to them and took a moment to rest in one of the chairs. It was surprisingly soft for seeming to have been made out of wood. He ran his fingers over the gentle curves and wished he had his glasses. 

Once he caught his breath and his limbs stopped shaking, Harry got to his feet and approached the striped wall. As he moved closer he realised that what his brain had interpreted as stripes were actually bars. He grabbed onto the two nearest to him and wondered where the hell he was. He forced his protesting limbs into movement as he stumbled around the room trying to find an exit. 

Memories of his two best friends flooded into his brain “I have to get out of here! Ron! Hermione!” He remembered that he was supposed to be with them but little else. Where was he? How had he gotten here? Where had his friends gone? 

He stumbled back over to the bars and tried to use magic and strength to tear them from their foundations. “Let me out of here!” He yanked hard on the bars but they remained immobile. A healed cut on his arm split open but he didn’t feel pain even as blood dripped to the floor.

“Calm down, Potter. You will only give yourself more injuries at this rate.” The voice flowed over him and ignited something in his brain.

“Snape!” Harry squinted at the black blob that was moving towards him on the opposite side of the bars. All he could see was black with a tiny splash of white near the top. Snape stopped about five feet away from him. Harry gaped up at him as his brain tried to remember who Snape was and how he should react to seeing him. He had the feeling he didn’t like him which was only intensified when Snape slowly looked him up and down, his head moving slightly as he examined Harry. Harry stared at Snape and Snape stared at Harry; the quiet of the room only interrupted by the soft patter of blood.

“You are a mess.” 

Harry glanced down at himself and suddenly realized he was naked. He yelped and scurried back over to the bed, snatching one of the crimson sheets off and wrapping it around his torso like a toga. “Why am I naked, you pervert!?”

Snape clicked his tongue in disagreement. “I am not attracted to under developed little boys-“

“I’m not–“

“-I made the mistake of assuming you were competent enough as a wizard to spell pockets into your clothing in order to hide artefacts. I destroyed the rags as a precaution. Now, you will come with me and take a bath. Scorgify can only clean so much, and I've no desire for you to smear blood and dirt about my rooms. Do not try and resist -- you are in no position to fight my magic as you are.”

A bath sounded wonderful, very relaxing. A part of Harry’s brain screamed at him to stay far away from Snape but the majority of him was focused on the mental picture that had popped up when Snape first said the word ‘bath.’ He saw himself resting in a tub filled with warm water. He stood up, clutching his toga in fisted hands, and walked over to Snape. The bars parted for him and he stepped through.

“First door on your right,” commanded Snape although he seemed a bit surprised that Harry did not object to the idea of a bath. Harry plodded down the short hallway which had a door on the left and two doors on the right. He opened the one nearest to him and stepped into a rather nice bathroom. A plush dark blue bathmat spread wide across the floor, matching towels on a narrow rack. Another toilet and sink rested in this room, although these were cut out of marble. A wide mirror rose above the sink and reflected a large cabinet, which was made of wood the same colour as the table in his room. He heard Snape step in the room behind him and close the door. There was a twist of a faucet and water poured into the tub.

“Stop gawking and get in,” snapped Snape.

Harry unwrapped his sheet and stepped into the warm water. He lowered himself carefully, his limbs still shaky and difficult to control. Once he had settled himself he peered up at Snape who was leaning against the wall between the sink and the cabinet. “Are you going to bathe too?”

There was a long silence before Snape answered, “Of course not, I’m only here to make sure you don’t kill yourself.”

“Why would I do that?” Harry wondered in confusion as he grabbed a flannel and rubbed it against the soap. 

Snape didn’t answer. 

“Oh, d’you mean this?” He gestured to the recently opened cut on his arm that had finally stopped bleeding. “It doesn’t hurt at all. _Nothing_ hurts.”

“I plied you with a very ample dose of painkillers. Quite frankly, I’m amazed you are able to walk right now, but you’ve always been annoyingly stubborn and unable to know when you should just sit down and shut up,” grumbled Snape.

“I am sitting now,” Harry pointed out.

“Then perhaps you should work on the second part.” 

Harry ran the wash cloth over his body and tried to gather his thoughts. “Snape, Snape, Snape. I remember the name but not much else…”

Snape moved to kneel by the edge of the tub. “Maybe you hit your head harder than we thought.” He lifted his hand to touch the left side of Harry’s skull above his ear. Pain thrummed through Harry’s head and he could tell that it would have been excruciating without the painkillers. “Ow! _That_ hurt.”

Snape moved to the cabinet which opened with a softly cast spell. Harry twisted to try to see what was inside but all he could make out were many differently coloured objects. Snape removed six vials and carried them over. He lined four of them up on the edge of the tub. Admiring them, Harry reached out a hand to touch one when Snape slapped his hand and opened the thin red vial. “Drink, and don’t spill a drop.”

Harry obediently quaffed the potion. It burned down his throat and immediately spread a dull fire throughout his body. He coughed and sputtered but Snape pressed a thick, short blue vial into his hand. “Now drink this.”

Harry shook his head and tried to catch his breath but Snape clamped his fingers over Harry’s nose and poured the thick liquid down his throat. The fingers holding the vial pressed up against Harry’s chin as soon as all the contents had been spilled into his mouth and he was forced to swallow all of the liquid before he was allowed breath again. The second vial’s contents didn’t seem to cause any reaction as far as Harry could tell. When Snape uncorked the third, similar in shape and size to the second but dark green in colour, Harry knew better to resist and drank it as quickly as his throat would allow. That one seemed to make every inch of his skin itch, although the obnoxious feeling passed before long. 

The final vial was as thick as his wrist and half as long. It contained a milky white substance that smelled like wet rags. Harry held his nose as he darted out his tongue to taste it. Luckily, it didn’t taste nearly half as bad as it smelled and he tried to drink it as rapidly as he could. 

Snape returned to his position on the far wall. “Your memories should return shortly after you finish that potion. If you fail to remember who I am after that, I will assume the head injury is permanent.” 

“That’s bad, right?” asked Harry between gulps. When Snape didn’t answer he shrugged and finished off the vial. He set the vial carefully down. “I don’t think it wo-“ He was interrupted when his brain seemed to explode. He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to keep it in as his hands flew to try and hold his skull in place. His lungs burned and all he felt was fire before darkness overcame him.


	2. Chapter 2

  
Author's notes: Chapter Notes: I know that in the book, Harry is taller than he is in the movies. He might even be taller than Snape (unless Sirius is very tall). However, I have taken my characterization of Harry and Snape from a variety of courses and since I consider the movies as canon as the books, I think of Harry as Daniel Radcliffe’s height, therefore, he is 5’6. Snape is a combination of Alan and Trent with Alan’s sensual voice. He is 6’1.  


* * *

Harry woke to a white ceiling and blue bath towels. He went through his memories quickly and most seemed to have returned. There was a gap involving his capture and subsequent imprisonment but everything else was intact as far as he could tell. He remembered being with Ron and Hermione and their search for the Horcruxes, then waking up in the cell drugged out of his mind. He sat up, becoming aware of a dull ache throughout his body. _Everything_ hurt.

Snape approached and held out another vial. "I trust your memories have returned."

A spike of rage surged through Harry, and he smacked Snape’s hand, knocking the vial out of his fingers and apart against the edge of the tub, where it shattered. "I'm not taking anything you give me, you bastard!" He hurled himself at Snape, determined to tear him to pieces. "YOU KILLED DUMBLEDORE!"

Snape grabbed his forearms in surprisingly strong hands and held Harry at bay as Harry slammed his foot into Snape's shins. He tried to rip his arms out of Snape's grasp to punch the arsehole in the face. "I'M GOING TO KILL YOU! DUMBLEDORE TRUSTED YOU! HE'S DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU! SIRIUS IS DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU! IT'S ALL YOUR-"

" _Silencio_!" Snape cut him off verbally although Harry continued to mouth insults and accusations at him, ignoring the fact that Snape looked more murderous than Harry had ever seen before. The slimy bastard's face was even more twisted than it had been on that night when he killed Dumbledore. " _Petrificus totalus_!" Snape closed one long fingered hand around Harry's neck and Harry did not doubt that he wanted nothing more than to crush the throat between his fingers.

In a low, deadly voice, Snape hissed, "You are very lucky that the Dark Lord has forbidden you from being harmed without his express permission. If I was allowed it right now, I would teach you a lesson in pain you would never forget. You would do well to remember that I have a very good memory, and it is highly likely that he will want you tortured for information soon. If you wish a repeat of last time and to be beaten so badly that you won't wake for three days, I can grant you that wish. I trust you have enough brains in that empty head of yours to remember and understand that I do not make idle threats."

His black eyes burning, he whispered, " _Mobilicorpus_ " and Harry felt his body being lifted by what seemed like invisible tendrils. They carried him out of the bathroom and down along the hallway. As they passed through the bars, Harry was turned face-down before being placed on the bed. Snape poured a lotion onto Harry's back and rubbed it on his wounds with brisk, short movements of his hands. He flipped him over and hurriedly smeared it over most of the bruises and cuts. As soon as he finished, he moved out of Harry's sight. Harry heard him tap his wand against something and then leave the cell. He did not release the full body bind until Harry could no longer hear his footsteps.

Harry lay in the bed and flexed his muscles to make sure they all still worked. He tried to make sense of his situation. He'd been captured for at least three days. A pang shot his heart as he thought of Ron and Hermione and desperately hoped that they had not been captured as well. He refused to consider the possibility that they had been killed. Snape had captured him and was certainly on Voldemort's side based on the hate-filled speech he had just given. His use of "we" meant that other people, Death Eaters no doubt, had been involved in Harry’s capture. Harry assumed that since he wasn't dead, he had not been brought before Voldemort yet. He didn't understand why Voldemort would order the Death Eaters not to harm him. Voldemort was probably worried that once the Death Eaters started hurting him they wouldn't be able to stop. Snape sure looked as though he wanted to kill Harry back in the bathroom. Then again, if Voldemort had ordered the Death Eaters not to hurt him, then how had he got all these injuries? And why the hell was Snape healing them? Did Snape and his friends disobey Voldemort and now they were trying to fix him up before they turned Harry over? What exactly they were waiting for, he didn't know. He did know he wouldn't go without a fight.

Harry attempted to reach for his magic, to Apparate, to do something, but it felt as though a fuzzy bubble was surrounding him, preventing him from accessing any magic at all. His inability to do any magic probably had to do with the manacles around his forearms. Now that he was more lucid, he examined them closely. What he had mistaken for bumps were actually very tiny carvings. His vision was too fuzzy to make out any details, but he thought he recognised some of the strange marks as runes. The manacles were seamless and fit against his arms far too perfectly for him to even shift them from side to side. Sandwiched between the metal and his skin rested a white cushioning layer that also covered the top rim of the cuffs. 

After Harry finished examining the manacles and carvings, he decided to explore the room again. The sheets on the bed had been replaced with clean ones and he wrapped himself in one before moving around the room. He trailed his fingers over every inch he could reach but was unable to find a door. Based on the way the bars had moved earlier, Snape had used some sort of spell to open them. 

Unable to get through the bars, Harry turned back to the table, noticing some objects on its surface. He cautiously approached and recognised what it was first by the smell – food! He hurried over, becoming aware for the first time of how desperately hungry he felt. The food and drink probably had potions in it but his stomach felt as though it were eating itself, and he was far too hungry to ignore the offering. He crammed the first thing he could grab - a sandwich - into his mouth, not caring that he didn't recognise the contents. He washed it down with pumpkin juice and then drank the chicken soup which had gone cold. He licked the bowl and plate clean, not feeling satisfied by the meagre meal.

Once he was sure he had eaten every crumb and licked every drop, he returned to his exploration. The bed was flat against the floor with four dark, twisted, metallic posts that disappeared into the ceiling. He ran his fingers over the strangely shaped rods and discovered carvings of dragons that slithered up and down the posts. Each dragon was about as long as his forearm and held a ring in its mouth. Their bodies were etched with carvings although the designs on their backs looked more like runes than scales. He hated not having his glasses. For some reason, the fact that he had trouble seeing bothered him more than his loss of magic. He expected them to restrain his magic but keeping his sight from him as well reminded him constantly as how helpless he was as their captive. 

He began to feel sleepy as he explored all the posts on his bed to check for differences between them. "I knew you poisoned the food!" he yelled at the empty walls, wishing Snape was there so he could rough him up. He collapsed back against the bed, strugglingly to stay mentally alert. "Even if you heal these injuries, he's still going to know you gave them to me. He'll read it in my mind. "He'll punish you for disobeying his orders. I hope I get to see it." He nuzzled his pillow. Sleep seemed an excellent idea. "After I kill him, I'll kill you."

~

When Harry woke, there fresh food rested on the table. He ignored it until his stomach twisted with pain, then staggered over, and ate with gusto. His - lunch? - consisted of two more of the strange sandwiches, which tasted slightly of fish, along with a thick stew of potatoes, carrots, beef, and onions. Resting beside the dishes were two glasses, one with pumpkin juice and another with water. He downed them after finishing off the food and finally felt full.

After his meal, Harry used the toilet and brushed his teeth. It seemed pointless to comb his hair but he did it anyway. Without a mirror he had no idea if he was making his unruly hair better or worse. Once he was sure he had no tangles, he set the comb back down. A feeling of sleepiness came over him and he gripped the edge of the sink. "Do you drug everything, you greasy bastard? Just turn me over to Voldemort and be done with it."

"What makes you think I am going to turn you over to the Dark Lord?" Snape's voice floated over to him from the opposite side of the room. Harry spun around to see Snape standing just outside the bars. 

"I doubt you are keeping me for the pleasure of my company." Harry grumbled as he made his way over to the bed so he wouldn't collapse on the floor. "Do you have to drug me silly?"

Snape stepped through the bars and strode over to him. "If I didn't, you would throw another little fit and exacerbate your injuries." He grabbed the corner of the sheet Harry was wearing and yanked it off, exposing Harry’s body completely. Harry rolled onto his side and covered his genitals with his hands in embarrassment. 

"He's going to know." Harry informed Snape as the Death Eater pulled out a bottle from his robes. "Even if you heal my injuries he will know so there's no point."

Snape pushed Harry onto his stomach and poured the liquid over his back. "I have not forgotten that your Occlumency is pathetic."

"And whose fault is that?" Harry mumbled into his pillow as Snape's fingers stroked the oil into the wounds.

"Yours," answered Snape shortly. "Your friends, your classmates, the entire Order is at risk because you couldn't keep your nose away from where it didn't belong."

"Fuck you," whispered Harry, too weak to do anything but lie there like a doll as Snape turned him over and poured the liquid over his chest. Snape's fingers moved quickly as if Harry's skin would burn him if he lingered. He finished with a couple of swipes at marks on Harry's face, then washed his hands in the sink as Harry drifted off. 

"I hope he casts the Cruciatus on you for the injuries," said Harry before passing out.

~

Snape had gone when Harry next regained consciousness. How long did he sleep? The lights in his cell never went out and he had no idea how long it had been since he had been captured. There was fresh food laid out on the table but his stomach no longer ached and he decided to ignore it as long as possible. He examined his torso, finding that most of his wounds had healed. Only the severe cuts had left marks and few scars that remained were healing nicely. In another few days, he might even be blemish free.

His stomach growled as he dressed himself in his sheet and crossed the room to grab the bars. "Snape!" he yelled, hearing his voice echo down the hallway. "Snape! I'm not eating anything until you talk to me!" He waited, squinting in the bright lights. "Snape!"

Snape arrived after Harry's voice began to grow hoarse. He slammed open a door at the end of the hallway opposite from where the bathroom was and stormed over to the bars in a swirl of black. "You had better be in mortal peril." He stopped opposite Harry, his face so angry, Harry could almost feel his displeasure radiating off of him. The dark line between his eyebrows was even darker than normal and his eyebrows crowded around it.

"Snape." He coughed and pressed his face through the bars, trying to make out more of Snape's face clearly. "Are you just going to feed and drug me? Why am I here?"

"I had hoped you had enough brains in that cobwebbed head of yours to figure that out without me explaining to you in detail, but obviously you have less intelligence than I originally considered."

Harry rolled his eyes, but Snape ignored it, stating, "When I factor in how stupid I regarded you originally, I am forced to now conclude that your IQ is less than your age. I admit I was wrong, Mr. Potter, when I said that you weren't special. How you managed to not flunk out of Hogwarts is beyond me, although I suspect a certain Miss Granger had a rather large hand in that. It is a shame that the Dark Lord didn't mark her, as I think we would all be better off."

Harry glared up at him through the bars. If he had his magic, he would've hexed the bastard until he bled out his ears but even giving the Death Eater the yelling he deserved would probably just result in his voice being taken away again. "I don't even remember how I ended up here. If I could remember then I might be able to figure it out but I can't."

Snape tilted his head. "You don't remember? Legilimens!"

Harry tried to mentally force Snape out as the Death Eater rifled through his memories.

"Searching for something?" asked Snape and Harry thought of the locket he and Dumbledore had found. "With whom were you searching?" Ron and Hermione sprang up in Harry's mind and he saw the camp where they had stayed. "Weasley and Granger, I see." Their faces rose and swam before him. No. No, he mustn't let him know. Harry tried to focus on other memories of his friends, sending them up to Snape to distract him.

"What about the Order? Did they help?" Harry's thoughts slipped to the Order before he managed to focus only on Sirius. Snape watched Sirius fall through the veil before trying to shift Harry’s attention. "They weren't much help in protecting you from Lucius." He continued but Harry had no recent memories of the Death Eater and focused on his old ones. Snape finally released Harry's mind. "Still as pathetic as ever at Occlumency I see," snarled Snape. "When I bring you before him, the Dark Lord will read your mind as easily as a book." "You saw to that," snapped Harry. Snape drew himself to his full height. "If you called me here to hurl more insults and accusations at me, I assure you I have far better ways of occupying my time." He turned to leave. "Wait!" Harry reached through the bars for him. "Give me clothes!" Without looking back at Harry, Snape said, "You are in no position to demand anything." "I need clothes, you pervert!" Harry yelled. "Or are you just keeping me naked because you like the view?" Snape disappeared in a flurry of black, stalking back towards the door he had entered from. Harry crossed the room and threw himself on the bed. Snape returned and tossed a small black pile at him. "Now eat and BE QUIET." "What about my purse?" Harry quickly pulled on the black t-shirt and black silk bottoms. "It was given to the Dark Lord." "Does he still have it?" he asked, dreading the answer. "He destroyed what he did not keep," Snape informed him before stalking off. Harry stumbled over to the table, holding the bottoms, which were far too big for him, in place. Ice settled in his stomach, even through the thick haze of drugs. Voldemort would have no reason to keep his mother's letter, the picture of his father and himself, the shard of Sirius's mirror, the photo album, or the Marauder's map. If Harry was lucky, the Snitch and the broken wand pieces had been spared. He hoped like hell that the Invisibility Cloak had been with Hermione. He didn't know what was worse – the idea that the Cloak might be in the hands of Voldemort and the Death Eaters, or that it had been destroyed and he had nothing left of either of his parents but his memories. The thought that he was probably all that remained of his parents crushed him deeply. What the hell had he been thinking? He should've put those precious items in his vault or given them to someone else to hold on to instead of carrying them with him. Instead, he had enabled Voldemort to not only take his parents' lives, but strip away nearly every tangible piece of them. His emotions warred with each other and he desperately tried to bring his true feelings up past the thick layer of calm but he just couldn't do it. Not knowing what else to do, he ate the food, which was the same as the last meal only in greater quantity. He finished all of it, not knowing when his next meal would come and returned to his bed to wait for the sleeping potions to kick in. Snape had said 'when' not 'if' which meant that he was bringing Harry to Voldemort. Harry wasn't sure why he felt such a feeling of dread in his chest. He had expected it from the beginning, but to have Snape confirm the matter made it suddenly a matter of time and his time seemed short. As much as he hated the greasy git, Harry knew that he was right about Harry's poor Occlumency skills. Voldemort would be able to see his thoughts and he'd learn that Ron and Hermione were out trying to destroy his Horcruxes. If Snape had not known with whom Harry was hunting for the Horcruxes, then that meant Ron and Hermione were probably safe for now. Harry had to protect them. He'd never be able to clear his mind, not when facing Voldemort, but he might be able to focus his thoughts so that Voldemort only saw some of his memories. If he controlled what Voldemort saw, he could still protect his friends. Harry practiced forcing certain memories to dominate his mind until the potion overcame him.

~

The next meal was twice as large as the last but the same ingredients. It was enough food to feed two people for at least two days. Harry poked his finger at it, wondering what parts of it were drugged. Maybe if he ate each dish separately he could figure it out. Then again, knowing Snape, probably the whole meal was drugged.

"There's no need to glare at your meal," said Snape from the bars. "Your wounds are healed enough that I no longer need to drug you with sleeping potions although I will not hesitate to dope you up if you disobey me."

Harry stared at him. The bastard knew how to move silently when he wanted to. After regarding him suspiciously for a moment, Harry shovelled food into his mouth. He didn’t trust Snape, but knew if the food was drugged that he would find out eventually. Not eating was pointless.

"For one so small, it is amazing how much you manage to eat," commented Snape. 

Harry glared at him as he continued to devour the stew. "I wasn't always given as much food as I wanted. Besides, I don't know when you will stop giving me food, so it's best for me to eat as much as I can while I have access to it."

Snape could not argue with that logic. "Once you finish your meal you will take a bath. Again, you can come willingly or I can force you. The choice is yours."

Harry chewed his sandwich and toyed with the idea of refusing to do anything Snape wanted him to, but he had a much better chance of escaping when he was outside of the cell. Besides, if he refused then Snape might bathe him himself and that idea gave Harry a shiver. After he ate as much food as he could stomach, he got to his feet and walked over to the bars. 

"Put your hands in between these two bars." Snape ordered him, pointing out two bars which were next to each other. Harry glared up at his fuzzy face but shoved his hands through the bars. Snape touched the left manacle with the tip of his wand and muttered a spell Harry couldn't make out. A chain appeared out of nowhere, attaching itself to a half ring on each of the manacles so that Harry’s arms were chained together with a five inch chain. 

"Oi!" He protested and pulled his arms back through the bars. He tried to break the chain but it was as if the cuffs had been built with the chain already intact. Snape stepped away from the bars, which finally opened.

"First door on the right," said Snape.

Harry scowled but walked to that bathroom, clutching his bottoms so that they wouldn't fall off as he walked. "How am I supposed to take off my shirt with this on?" He gestured to his bound wrists.

"I will remove it after you get in the tub," answered Snape briskly. The bathroom door was open and Harry stepped through and stood in the centre of the rug. Snape entered behind him, closing the door while spelling the bath tubs taps open.

"D'you have to be in here too?" complained Harry as he stepped out of the bottoms. He gripped the edge of the tub with his hands and climbed in.

"I told you before; I need to make sure that you don't kill yourself," said Snape tersely. He whisked his wand and muttered a charm causing the chain to disappear. 

"I bet you'd love that. It's a shame Voldemort doesn’t allow it." Harry peeled off the shirt and tossed it to land with the bottoms.

"If I wanted you dead right now, Potter, I'd prefer something far more satisfying. I think I'd strangle you." Snape tucked his wand back in his robes and moved to his place against the wall.

"I'd hex you," Harry informed him as he searched for the soap through the bubbles. He had never imagined Snape as the sort who took bubble baths. "Or maybe poison. It'd be great if I poisoned the poison master."

"Based on how pitifully you did in class without my help, I have no doubt you could brew numerous deadly potions; however, I doubt you'd be able to do so on purpose."

"Without your help?" Harry scoffed and scrubbed shampoo into his hair. "You did nothing but make it worse."

"Have you forgotten last year already, Potter?" Snape sneered. "I doubt your improved potion making skills had anything to do with Slughorn's teaching."

Harry ducked under the water to rinse off the shampoo. "It showed that I'm very good at brewing when given clear directions and I don't have a greasy git breathing down my neck."

Snape snapped a towel from the rack. "Get out of the tub, Potter. I've had quite enough of your insufferable presence for a day. When the Dark Lord arrives you can annoy him instead."

Harry grabbed the towel and climbed out of the tub. He dried himself off and calculated. Even though he had seen Snape put his wand away, his vision was far too fuzzy to see where it had gone and even if he grabbed it, he doubted he could cast magic. If he wanted to escape he would have to physically disarm Snape. Most wizards became confused when physically attacked, but Snape wasn’t a pureblood. Harry would have to catch him completely off guard to be able to knock him out. Moving away from the tub, Harry pulled on his clothing. Snape stepped beside him to spell open the drain. Harry took his chance and lunged at Snape.

Although Harry was small, he knew how to throw around his weight from being beat up by Dudley and his gang. He rammed his body against Snape with enough force to knock the Death Eater into the tub and took off running. He was also quick, even in bottoms far too large for his frame. He dashed down the hall, choosing the door at the other end of the hall from where the bathroom was located. He closed it quietly just as Snape burst through the bathroom door. He heard Snape underestimate his speed and open the door across from the bathroom. 

Turning around, Harry quickly examined the room he had ended up in. It was a library with books covering nearly every inch of the walls, a fireplace, and scattered furniture including a couch, two chairs, and three tables. Harry dashed to the fireplace and searched desperately for Floo powder. Not finding any, he raced around the library trying to find a door other than the one he had come in. He didn't find another door, but he found stairs that led up, so he scrambled up them, his fingers digging into the thick, dark carpet. He ended up in a narrow, carpeted hallway that had three doors. Choosing the one nearest to him, he stepped into what had to be Snape's bedroom. A wide bed with black sheets took up most of the room. In between it and the door along one wall rested a writing desk that had papers and books organised in neat piles. Across from the bed stood a large wooden wardrobe. To the left and the right of the wardrobe were two doors. He heard footsteps and, realising he wouldn't be able to escape back out through the front door with Snape approaching, opened the door on the right. He found himself in Snape's bathroom. Closing the door, he chose the other and discovered Snape's cupboard, which was filled mostly with black. He spun around and noticed a window behind him covered in thick curtains. He was about to throw them open when he heard Snape reach the top of the stairs and he dived under the bed.

The door to the bedroom slammed open and Snape stood dripping wet in the entry way. He snarled, "I know you are in here, Potter." Harry held his breath as Snape strode to check the bathroom and cupboard. When Snape opened the cupboard door, Harry quietly rolled out from under the bed and darted towards the bedroom door. He was half way through it when Snape's _Petrificus Totalus_ struck him in the back. He fell forward, landing with his head and upper arm hanging out over the stairs. Snape marched out of the bedroom and stood staring down at Harry. 

Snape hissed, " _Mobilicorpus_ ," and floated Harry back to his cell. Harry raged inside his mind. If only he hadn't stopped to search for the floo powder! As Harry floated through the library he wondered where the hell he was. Snape's personal home? Where were the other Death Eaters?

Snape sent Harry over to the bed and manoeuvred him so that his out-stretched arms rested near the posts at the head of the bed. He muttered the same charm he had used to create the chain, “ _Concretio Ferratilis_.” Pulling a vial out of his robes, Snape grabbed Harry’s jaw with one hand and uncorked the vial with the other. As soon as he released the body bind, he forced Harry's jaw open and poured the potion down his throat. Harry twisted his body and tried to knock the potion out of Snape’s hands but something prevented him from moving his arms more than a few inches. Snape held Harry's mouth and nose closed while Harry struggled, trying to hard to kick him

Harry was only able to hold out for so long and when he finally needed to breathe, he swallowed. Snape released him and stepped away from the bed. Harry gasped for breath while he twisted to look at his wrists. Chains connected the bindings on his forearms to the rings on the bed posts. He tugged as hard as he could, but the chains were as strong as the one Snape had made earlier.

Snape said, "All you managed to do with that little display was make me angry."

"Good." Harry tried to kick him again.

Snape left in a blurry smear of black.

Harry tugged on the chains until the sleeping potion Snape had fed him left him too tired to move. "Next time I'm in your bedroom I'll set your bed on fire." He assured the ceiling before he drifted off.


	3. Chapter 3

  
Author's notes: Harry’s hunting for the Horcruxes when he is captured by the Death Eaters and held as a prisoner/slave. Snape is positioned as his prison guard.  


* * *

Someone slapped Harry across the face. Harry gasped and attempted to open his eyes as he was yanked to his feet by his hair. He tried to stand, but his limbs were still caught up in the sleeping potion and he stumbled. The grip in his hair remained firm and he was pushed several steps before being thrown on the floor. He managed to open his eyes but could only see a grey blur. The rough hands grabbed his arms and yanked him to his feet again. He blinked, trying to make out the features of the person manhandling him, but all he could tell was that they were dressed mostly in black with a pale face. The touch of the hands and the shape of the person were very different than Snape, but he couldn't think of who else it could be. His arms were hoisted above his head and Harry heard the clank of chains. When the person in black stepped away, Harry felt with his hands and discovered a thick chain leading up to the ceiling to which his manacles were now attached. A cool breeze blew across his skin and Harry became very aware of the fact that he was naked.

"May I play with your new toy, my Lord?" Bellatrix's voice rang out with a fawning admiration. 

"Later, you had your fun last time," said Voldemort, his voice sending daggers of steel into Harry's heart. Oh god, Snape had turned him over. Snape had told Voldemort about Hermione and Ron. Snape had killed Dumbledore, the only person who could have saved him. Harry pushed aside those thoughts and tried to calm himself down. He was still alive and that meant Voldemort wanted something from him. If he could hold out, he'd stay alive. Harry blinked his eyes rapidly to try to regain his vision. He could make out three dark blurs with white faces. The one he assumed was Voldemort was sitting in a chair with a dark blur on either side. 

"Severus." Voldemort nodded his head towards Harry. Harry heard a rustle of cloth behind him, a sharp noise, and then suddenly a line of fire shot across his back as an impact rocked him as far forward as the chains would allow. He gasped in surprise and tightened his fingers around the chain to hold himself upright. Another crack – it must be a whip - and a second line of fire burst across his back. Determined not to cry out in front of Voldemort, Harry bit his lip. Snape whipped him steadily, each lash rocking him forward. Harry gave up trying to hold himself upright and sagged against his chains. He managed not to scream, even when his legs were soaked in blood and each lash crossed countless open wounds.

Finally, the whip dropped to the floor and the only sound in the room was Harry's ragged breaths. Voldemort stepped down from his throne and crossed to Harry. "You are beautiful in your suffering." He stroked Harry's face and Harry had lost too much blood to attempt to bite his fingers or even talk back.

Suddenly Voldemort was in his mind and Harry couldn't throw him out. He had become too weak to control his memories. He tried to send the fabricated ones at Voldemort as his greatest enemy ploughed through his brain. "What were you doing before I caught you?" asked Voldemort and Harry thought of the Horcruxes. He tried to focus on the locket.

"Who was helping you?" Harry couldn't help but think of Ron and Hermione. He immediately tried to replace their thoughts with those of random other faces but it was too late.

"Your little friends from school? Pathetic. Dumbledore was a fool to think that children could stand up to me." The Death Eaters laughed and Harry's thoughts went to Dumbledore at the mention of his name. Voldemort watched his greatest rival's death with interest. 

"Yes, Severus served me well which is why I have given you to him," Voldemort informed him.

Harry tried to focus on his memory of the injuries he had sustained earlier.

"They did have fun with you when you were first caught." Voldemort searched for memories of that event. "I've never heard anyone scream like that before."

"My Lord," Snape spoke up from somewhere behind Harry, "the boy appears to have no memory of his capture or our celebration afterwards. I suspect the head injury he sustained was responsible for that unfortunate outcome."

"No matter." Voldemort returned to his throne. "We will give him new memories. Begin, Severus."

Snape cracked the whip again and this time Harry cried out as it tore across his shoulders. The whip fell and fell again until Harry finally passed out from lack of blood.

~

When he woke, he felt no pain. He was lying face down on the crimson bed with Snape sitting beside him, his fingers gliding over Harry's lower back. Harry tried to move his limbs to throw him off but he could barely move his head. When he finally had enough control over his body to speak he croaked, "Leave me alone."

"You slept for some time," Snape responded evenly as his fingers moved over Harry's upper thighs. "If you don't eat, your wounds will never recover."

"Why d'you care? You will just torture me again and give me new ones. I don’t want you to touch me. I don't want you near me." Harry tried to pull himself up again and managed to prop himself up on his elbows. 

Snape stepped away from the bed and washed his hands. "Be that as it may, the Dark Lord has given me strict orders to make sure you are healed." He stepped over to the table and tapped it with his wand. A full meal appeared and the aroma made Harry's stomach rumble. 

"Eat and then I will take you in for a bath. Trust me, Potter; I do not enjoy bathing you any more than you enjoy being bathed by me. Bathe yourself and I will touch you no more than absolutely necessary," promised Snape. 

Harry was too tired and hungry to argue, but he was still too weak to climb out of bed. He watched through half-lidded eyes as Snape tucked a vial that was sitting on Harry's sink back into his robes and finally left the cell.

Harry closed his eyes. He was a bit surprised he was still alive. He hoped he had not given too much away to Voldemort. He was terrible at Occlumency and had the impression that Voldemort had been able to see everything. There was nothing he could do about it now. 

His second attempt at movement was much more successful, although he ended up on the floor when he attempted to get out of bed. 

Snape returned levitating fresh sheets before him. He set down the sheets, hooking his hands under Harry's armpits and hauled him to his feet. 

"Don't touch me!" Harry demanded, but Snape ignored him and dragged him to the chair.

Once he had pushed Harry into his seat, Snape released him and stepped away. Harry dug into the food. This time, there was only a stew made with chicken, carrots, onions, and rice. Snape busied himself behind Harry changing the sheets on the bed.

"Why don’t you have the house-elf do that?" Harry asked him, feeling remarkably calm after what had just happened.

"Do you think I would allow a house-elf down here knowing how you love to give them clothes?" Snape briskly said. 

"Hermione does," said Harry through a mouth full of stew.

"Excuse me?"

Harry finished chewing. "I only freed Dobby; Hermione was responsible for trying to free the ones at Hogwarts."

"Miss Granger tried to set the Hogwarts' house-elves free?" There was something that almost sounded like amusement in Snape's voice.

"Yeah but they just got offended," said Harry, concentrating on his stew. 

"Of course they were." Snape swept past with the pile of dirty laundry trailing after him. He stepped out of the bars and headed down the hall. Remembering his nudity, Harry headed back towards the bed to dress himself in a sheet. He found a small pile of black folded neatly near his pillow. His clothes! He snatched them up and discovered that the bottoms now had a draw string and were hemmed at the bottom to fit him perfectly. After completing his toiletries, he sat down on the floor and rested his head against the bars. The food had helped clear his senses somewhat, but he was still really tired and his brain felt stuffed full of cotton. His emotions were muted, as if a heavy cloth had been placed around his heart.

Snape walked back from the same direction that the bath was in. He ordered, "Take off your shirt and put your hands through the bars," as soon as he saw Harry.

"Why am I taking off my shirt now?" Harry asked him suspiciously as he stood.

"After your last escape attempt I plan on keeping your hands chained the entire time you are out of your room," said Snape.

Harry sulkily pulled off his shirt. "It wouldn’t have slowed me down. I would've got further if I hadn't tried to Floo out."

"You thought this house would be attached to a Floo network?" One of the blurry lines that were Snape's eyebrows inch up towards the darkness that was his hair.

"I was only thinking of escape." Harry put his hands through the bars and watched Snape cast the chaining spell. Snape stepped back and the bars parted for Harry to step through.

Feeling as though he was sleepwalking, Harry shuffled to the bathroom. He still felt remarkably calm even though he could feel his rage against Snape boiling below the surface of his thoughts. It was there, but he couldn't bring it to the surface. "Did you give me mood drugs too?" 

"Perhaps," said Snape as he spelled the taps open. Harry watched him closely this time and saw him add the bubble bath. As if anticipating another attack, he stayed well out of reach this time.

"What are you waiting for?" Snape stared at Harry. 

Harry shook himself. He undid the drawstrings on his bottoms, leaving them on the bath mat and slid into the tub.

Snape waited until Harry was sitting down and then moved past the tub to lean against the wall in his favourite spot.

"How am I going to wash myself with my hands chained?" Harry asked Snape as he grabbed the soap. 

"I am sure you will manage," said Snape.

Harry complained, "I can’t reach my back." 

"It is probably for the best. The wounds are still healing and you have a tendency to irritate your injuries."

"Injuries you gave me," muttered Harry as he soaped his arms as best he could. If Snape heard he gave no reply. He spoke louder, "I don't understand why you are so worried about me killing myself. The prophecy said that I have the ability to kill him. I'm going to do my best to kill him and I'll keep trying until I succeed or he kills me." 

"How noble," sneered Snape.

Harry whirled around to glare at the Death Eater. "At least I try to do what's right. I don’t kill inno-"

"Get out of the tub, Potter." Snape stepped forward and snatched a towel off the rack with a snap. He dropped it over Harry’s head. 

"But I haven't washed-" 

"Out!" Snape grabbed Harry's upper left arm and yanked him out of the tub. The towel fell off as he pulled Harry out into the hall and dragged him naked and wet back to his cell. The bars parted and Snape threw him to the ground inside before storming off. There was a slam of a door and then quiet as Harry slowly got to his feet.

Snape was impossible. He shouldn't have joined the Death Eaters if he was so sensitive about being called a killer. Harry walked over to his bed and yanked the pillowcase off the pillow. He dried himself off and then crawled onto the mattress, covering himself with a sheet. His bottoms had been left back in the bathroom and he couldn't put on the shirt with his hands still chained. 

Harry curled up and closed his eyes, thinking of his friends. He hoped Ron and Hermione were still safe. Knowing Hermione, she probably figured out he had been captured soon after and was plotting ways to help him escape. If anyone could get him out of here, she could. She and Ron would work their hardest to help him escape. Harry thought of his friends until he fell asleep.

~

He had a delightful dream. Ginny was helping him hunt for the Horcruxes and as part of their search they had to take a bath in a hot spring. Of course, Ginny had stripped naked and the small spring seemed to get smaller by the second until they were forced to press against each other in order to stay in the water. Ginny's breasts were soft and milky white with delicate pink nipples that pressed into his chest. His own clothes had disappeared at some point and his cock stood firmly at attention. She rubbed against him just the way he liked. "Oh yes...." He murmured as her body pressed hard against his, his cock caught between their bellies. "Yes...." 

"Potter! What-"

Harry felt the sheet yanked off of him. He twisted his head to look up at Snape as he woke up and realised he was holding his cock in his hands. He blinked at the Death Eater who stood frozen by the side of the bed, holding the crimson bed sheet in his hand like a flag. Harry couldn't make out the expression on Snape's face but he thought he saw some pink spreading across his cheeks. 

"Er . . .good morning." Harry finally said, his fingers still wrapped around his prick.

There was a particularly pronounced swirl of black and Snape left quicker than Harry had ever thought possible. 

"Get rid of the chain!" yelled Harry at the retreating black smudge. He finally released his cock. Having the greasy git catch him in a wank was certainly a libido killer, plus, he needed to pee.

Harry slid out of bed and made his way to the toilet. Fresh food had been placed on the table along with black smudges that he assumed were his missing clothes. When his cock had calmed down he did his business, washed his hands, and then grabbed his bottoms. Snape had also folded Harry’s shirt, placing it neatly on top of his trousers. He carelessly tossed the shirt onto his bed and quickly yanked on the bottoms before sitting down to eat.

This time, there was a heavy soup with potatoes and various other things Harry didn't recognise. Pumpkin juice and thick sour bread rounded out the meal. Snape’s house-elf sure knew how to cook, even though he or she seemed to heavily favour stews and soups. The flavours were like nothing Harry had tasted at the Dursleys' or Hogwarts. He ate as much as he could, hating to waste food. After he finished, he cleaned his teeth and combed his hair. 

Snape normally either gave him potions or dragged him off for a bath after he finished eating. If he had known earlier that jerking off in front of Snape would cause the man to leave him alone, he would've done it before. When the bastard didn't show up after he made his bed in lieu of nothing else to do, he decided to try to break through the chain. He picked up a chair and carried it over to the wall across from his bed. 

Harry slid the chain under a leg of the chair and yanked up as hard as he could. The chain pressed against the wood and tugged on the manacles but did not break, even when Harry pulled up with all his strength. He manoeuvred himself so that the legs of the chair were pressed against the wall, the chain between his upper arms under the top right leg. He moved back and curled up so that his feet were pressed flat against the seat of the chair and used his feet to push down on the chair while he tugged back on his arms. The manacles dug into his wrists painfully, but the chain held fast. Shifting into a better position, he tugged harder.

Suddenly, the chain disappeared and he fell back on the floor. Snape stood on the other side of the bars.

"You will break your arm before you break the chain." Snape said in a voice that suggested the former would please him a lot more. Harry sat up and rubbed the cuffs to make sure the chain was really gone. "Now go lie on the bed."

"You better not be here to take me for a bath." Harry glared suspiciously at the black smudge once he was sure that the chain was not about to reappear.

"Of course not, you've already had one today," sneered Snape as if Harry should've known that fact. "I need to put more ointment on your back so that you don't scar."

"I don't know how much time passes when I sleep! For all I know I could've slept for days again. Besides, why the hell do you care if I scar?"

"I will use magic to move you to your bed if I must." Snape pointed his wand at Harry’s chest. "It is up to you."

Harry was a bit surprised Snape gave him a choice. Deciding he didn't want to be touched while immobilized or petrified, he threw himself across his bed.

Stepping through the bars, Snape lectured, "The overuse of sleeping potions and painkillers causes numerous adverse reactions including hallucinations, somnambulism, trichotillomania, seizures, mysophobia, and pavor nocturnes. As I barely tolerate your company enough as it is, you can be assured that I will not drug you any more than necessary." 

Harry blinked at him. "I don't know what most of that means."

"What a surprise," said Snape dryly. He grabbed Harry's upper arms, pushing them towards the bedposts at the head of the bed. Harry was about to punch him in his huge nose when chains appeared between his manacles and the posts, leaving him unable to move his arms more than a few inches.

Harry scowled. He examined the manacles again as Snape rubbed some sort of oil into his back. The potions Snape had been feeding Harry had caused his vision to blur and now that the potions had started to work their way out of his system he could see the designs on the manacles clearly as long as he kept his face close to the metal. He realised that they were covered with runes as well as carvings of dragons that reminded him of the dragons on his bedposts. If only Hermione was here! She probably could've read the runes. 

Snape finally stood and washed his hands in the sink. "Don't touch your back to anything for at least an hour. It would be beneficial if you didn't rub anything against it for at least five but knowing you, I imagine that you will find it difficult to avoid aggravating your wounds for even an hour."

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's not like I have anything else to do."

Snape stepped out of the cell, walking in the direction of the library.

"The chains!" Harry yelled after him, tugging on the rings. "I have to take a piss!" he lied.

Snape returned and flicked his wand, setting Harry free. He threw something at Harry who, with his Seeker skills sharp as ever, caught it easily. It was a thick paper back book.

" _The Hunchback of Notre-Dame_ ,” read Harry, placing the book inches from his face so he could make out the letters. "This would be a lot easier to read if I had glasses."

"If you behave, I may give them to you," said Snape from the other side of the bars. "Now that you have something constructive to do with your time, I expect you to be quiet unless you are dying. You are also not to engage in any behaviour where you are likely to break a limb." Snape's head jerked pointedly towards the chair still lying on the floor.

Annoyed at how Snape was lecturing him, Harry looked straight at the Death Eater and declared, "I was just going to wank."

Snape disappeared so fast it was almost as if he flew. 

[Next](http://kibatsu.livejournal.com/15622.html)

[[I know whipping is such a Muggle thing, but I think Snape would prefer to do something physical.]] 


	4. Chapter 4

  
Author's notes: Harry’s hunting for the Horcruxes when he is captured by the Death Eaters and held as a prisoner/slave. Snape is positioned as his prison guard.  


* * *

Harry woke from a dream he instantly forgot. Pushing himself up on his elbows, he glanced around the room to see what had awakened him, but nothing appeared out of the ordinary. When he lay back down, the sheets brushed over his groin and his cock, already hard with morning wood, twitched excitedly. He hadn't been able to bring himself off in a while; living with Ron and Hermione made masturbation difficult even with silencing charms. Fuck Snape, he was going to have a proper wank. 

Sliding out of bed, he fetched some sheets of toilet paper and brought them back to the bed. Eagerly, he undid the string on his pyjama bottoms and pushed them down, letting his prick spring free. Relaxing against the bed, he let his fingers slide over the head of his cock. That simple touch was enough to send blood pulsing into his cock, his balls pulling tight against his body, and he bit his lip. 

Eager for orgasm, his prick spit out a drop of precum and he rubbed it around the delicate head with his thumb, as all the heat in his body shooting straight to his groin. God, this was just what he needed.

"Ah...." He spit on his hand, then fisted himself, wrapping his fingers tightly as he worked the shaft. The first strokes were slow, but nice. He nearly lifted his fist free of his prick with each up stroke and with each down stroke, he pushed his cock through his fingers until his hand was pressed against his pelvis. It had been far too long and soon his hips were thrusting as he fucked his fist, his eyes focused on how his length slid in and out of his fingers. He imagined that he was fucking a mouth, a hot wet mouth that was eager to suck all the spunk out of his dick. 

“Fuck! Yes, fuck . . . yes, oh, fuck!" His arse rose up off the bed with each upward thrust and he clawed at the sheets with his left hand as his right worked furiously on his length. His balls pulled taunt against his body, and he knew he couldn't last. Snatching up the tissues with his free hand, he pressed them over the tip, squeezing his eyes shut as he pumped sperm out of his prick with his hand. 

He kept his eyes closed while the tremors subsided and his heart rate slowed. When his breaths were even and his limbs no longer shaking, he opened his eyes and cleaned up the come that had dripped out of the tissue, tucking his spent prick back in his bottoms. 

He plodded over to the toilet, flushing the used tissue down before washing his hands. Normally there was food when he woke up. The chair he'd left against the wall remained in the same position, which meant that Snape had probably not entered the cell while Harry was sleeping.

After setting the chair right, Harry had nothing else to do, so he read another chapter in _Hunchback_ before he grew too hungry to ignore his stomach. He had got used to not eating regularly at the Dursleys, but his stomach ached as if he hadn't eaten for more than a day. He set the book back down and approached the bars. 

At the top of his lungs he yelled, "Snape!" When no response came after a count of five, he yelled Snape's name again. After three more attempts at summoning failed to procure bastard, Harry smacked his fists against the bars in frustration. When his manacles stuck, a deep, ringing sound resonated through them, spreading up into the ceiling and down into the floor. He stuck them again, harder, and delighting when the resonance increased. 

He banged his cuffs against the bars until the door to the library slammed open and Snape strode through. Harry couldn't see his face clearly but swept across the floor like the tornadoes in a programme Dudley had watched about the American Midwest. Snape reached through the bars, grabbed Harry by the shirt and yanked him forward, knocking his head against a bar. 

"Ow!"

"You had better be dying!" snarled Snape.

Harry shot out a hand, slamming Snape's arm into a bar. They touseled, Harry trying to knock Snape's hands into the bars and Snape trying to stop him. Without his glasses, Snape's torso was indistinguishable from his arms and soon Snape had him trapped, one hand wrapped around his neck while his other held Harry's wrists together. 

As calmly as he could, Harry said, "I thought you weren't supposed to hurt me."

The fingers around Harry's neck twitched as if Snape were just looking for an excuse to snap it. In a low voice he said, "At this point, Potter, I think that the joy I'd obtain from wringing your scrawny neck would more than make up for whatever tortures the Dark Lord would inflict upon me. Now, WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

"I'm hungry, you bastard."

Snape stared at him. Harry couldn't make out Snape's expression unless he pressed his face closer and he wasn't going to do that with Snape's fingers digging into his neck. He glared at Snape, expecting to be crucio-ed or at least hexed but he didn't care. 

Finally, to Harry's surprise, the anger on Snape's face melted as if a switch had been flipped. Wearing a neutral expression, Snape released Harry and, in a remarkably calm voice, said. "Go sit on the bed."

Refusing wasn't going to get him fed, so Harry walked back towards the bed, keeping a suspicious eye on Snape the entire time. It was unlike the bastard to be nice, so he watched his closely as he sat on the edge of the bed. Snape cast the chain spell and rings formed between Harry's left manacle and the nearest ring on the bedpost, then walked back towards the library. When Snape was out of sight, Harry cursed him and lay back against the bed. He was so hungry; he’d have taken pain if that meant getting food in exchange. Oh well, he had endured starvation with the Dursleys and learnt how to handle it then. He could learn to wait longer. 

Pushing those thoughts aside, Harry decided to read his book. It was out of his reach on the floor by the head of the bed even when he stretched out as far as he could and tried to knock it towards himself using his foot. He sat back on his bed and made a lasso out of one of the sheets. The sheet was just long and crisp enough that he managed to make a loop he could throw over the book, dragging it forward when he pulled the sheet back towards himself. Triumphant, he turned to the next chapter, curling up on the bed with his back towards the bars because the light was better that way.

Harry was chuckling at the scene where Quasimodo encountered a deaf judge and did not hear Snape enter. There was a loud rapping noise behind him and he turned over to see Snape standing by the table which now had food upon its surface. 

"Did you not complain of hunger earlier or did you just use that as an excuse to make an inordinate amount of noise?" Snape's tone let Harry know he was scowling. 

"I did." Harry finally managed to speak. He closed the book and scooted towards the edge of the bed. "I just . . . didn't expect you to actually bring me food."

"Trust me, Potter." Snape stepped away from the table and waved his hand so that the chain disappeared. "I would have preferred to hex you until what remains of your brain drips out your ears, but neither of us is in a situation where we can afford to be picky."

Ignoring him, Harry hurried over to the table. There was pumpkin juice, water, three sandwiches that appeared to be made with peanut butter and jam, and an apple. He threw himself in a chair and stuffed a sandwich in his mouth.

Snape spoke in low, even tones. "I will not withhold food from you even when you deserve to be starved. I will bring you food when it is convenient for me to do so. As I said before, you are only allowed to make that sort of racket if you are dying. If I hear it again, I will chain you to the bed and take away your voice.”

Harry chewed a sandwich as he listened to Snape, watching his face even though all he saw was a sallow blur. He did not doubt that the man would do everything that he promised. 

"Bellatrix will be arriving later tonight. I know that she heavily desires to keep you as her pet. If you continue to be difficult, I will not hesitate to hand you over." Snape turned and left, walking towards the library. 

Harry drank his pumpkin juice. Snape acted as though keeping Harry captive was a huge chore and something that he had to suffer through. Yet, Voldemort had said that Harry was given to the Death Eater as a reward for killing Dumbledore. Did Snape think Harry didn't remember what Voldemort had told him? Determined not to think about what Bellatrix might want with him, Harry returned to the bed after eating and read his book.

He read off and on until his eyes hurt and he couldn't stand the thought of turning another page. Bored out of his mind, he paced around the cell. He had no idea how much time had passed since breakfast, but based on how much he had read, he imagined that it had to be at least twelve hours. He was hungry again. Snape either ate like a bird or was underfeeding him in retaliation. As he had no desire to be chained to the bed, he remained quiet. Instead, he took the bed apart, discovering that it was composed of a pile of mattresses kept in place by the frame. Two thick metallic bars connected the one bedpost that wasn’t against a wall to the others. Unlike the bedposts, the bar had no design as far as Harry’s fingers and fuzzy vision could tell. The heavy mattresses were difficult to lift, and it took him a while to yank the last one up out of the frame. He was on his hands and knees, exploring the floor underneath the mattresses for cracks or hidden doors when Snape strode in.

"Potter." 

Sitting up, Harry glanced over the frame, feeling remarkably calm for being in the presence of the Death Eater responsible for the deaths of so many of his loved ones. Snape had to be drugging him with potions so powerful, he couldn't even get angry over Snape drugging him.

Snape's face slowly turned as he examined the room with the three mattresses strewn across the floor. After he had examined the room, Snape regarded Harry quietly for a moment before he spoke again. "Follow me, you need a bath."

Harry agreed with him. The mattresses were heavy and, not having been given deodorant, he knew he smelled ripe. He got to his feet and walked to the cell bars, putting his hands through a slot while Snape waited for him outside.

"Take off your shirt first," Snape reminded him.

"Oh, yeah." He dropped it onto the floor and offered his hands again. Snape cast the spell for the chain and opened the bars at the same time. The double-casting was impressive, although he refused to show it. No need to make the bastard feel better about himself. He walked down the hall towards the bathroom while Snape followed, spelling the faucets open. 

Harry dropped his bottoms as Snape closed the door behind them. The chain between his cuffs disappeared and he quickly climbed into the tub, hiding his hands below the water in case Snape hadn't removed the chain on purpose.

"I thought Bellatrix was coming." 

"She is." Snape leaned against the wall in his favourite spot. "Another engagement ran over." 

What sort of 'engagement' would hold up a Death Eater? It couldn't be a good one. Hopefully not one that involved Ron and Hermione. He dropped his soap as he realised that he hadn't practiced his Occlumency nearly enough. Fuck, Voldemort was going to read his mind. He wasn't sure that he had any secrets left to hide but it was risky to try and chance it. Focus, he had to focus.

"Potter." Snape’s voice snapped Harry out of his thoughts. "We don't have much time."

Nodding his agreement, Harry retrieved the soap, and scrubbed his arm pits, trying to focus his mind. 

Snape stepped out of the bathroom, leaving the door opened behind him. Harry stared after him before shampooing up his hair. It was strange to be left alone. Maybe Snape had got over his fear that Harry was going to kill himself any second. It didn't make any sense that Snape let him be alone for hours at a time in his cell but insisted on watching him in the bath. Maybe he was a creep after all. He ducked under the water to rinse his hair and when he sat up Snape was standing in the doorway. 

"Hurry up, Potter.

Harry grumbled but climbed out of the tub. He grabbed a towel off the rack and dried himself off looking for his bottoms. 

Snape said, "You won't need them right now. Follow me." 

The thought of running flashed through his mind, but he ignored it. He would face his enemy on his feet with his head high. Besides, he’d have a better chance of escape once they got out of the cellar. His stomach in knots, Harry turned towards Snape.

The chain reappeared between Harry's manacles and he followed Snape out into the hallway. As he passed by the cell, he glanced in to see that Snape had restored the bed. Snape led him through the library, up the stairs, and through a door on the opposite end of the hall from Snape's bedroom. 

Snape took him into the room where he'd seen Voldemort before. A small dais rose up out of the marble floor along the wall opposite the door. Upon the dais rested a black throne carved with sharp angles. Red couches and low tables of dark wood were scattered along the walls. In addition to the door Snape had walked Harry through, two massive doors stood on Harry's left. There were not any windows in this room, which was lit by candles. 

Snape waved his wand and something pushed hard on the back of Harry's knees, knocking them against the floor. He looked up just to see the massive doors bang open and Voldemort stride in, followed by Bellatrix and two other Death Eaters Harry couldn't make out.

"Have you been playing with the toy, Severus?" Bellatrix sang out in her baby voice. "I hope he can still scream for me."

Snape ignored her, bowing low to Voldemort. "My Lord."

Voldemort walked past him and sat in his throne. "Come speak with me, Severus." He conjured a chair beside him although it was not even half as big as his throne. Snape obediently moved over. 

"Thank you, my Lord," he said before taking his seat. It made Harry sick to hear him kowtow and scrape. How any of them could stand being slaves, he didn't know. 

Bellatrix approached him eagerly as if he were a Christmas present. "Do you remember when you tried to cast Cruciatus on me, little boy?" She ran her wand across his back and he flinched away. 

"I remember. I'm much better at it now." If he had his wand he would've cast it on her in an instant.

"I think you still need a lesson or two," she cackled. " _Crucio_!" 

It seemed as if every nerve he had in his body had been set on fire and he flailed around, trying not to scream. Bellatrix laughed, her cackling voice falling on him like needles. He tried to roll away from her, but she cast again as soon as the first one faded and he could do nothing but scream and writhe. 

"See how pretty he suffers, my Lord?" purred Bellatrix. She cut the spell and Harry panted on the floor, trying to move so most of his body was off the tiles. His entire body felt as if it was on fire, but the parts pressing against the marble burned as if all the skin had been peeled away. 

"I wonder how long before he ends up like the Longbottoms." Grabbing his hair, she yanked his head up as she knelt down. She ran her wand along his jaw and he couldn't do anything but shake as her face twisted in an obscene version of a smile. "You remember them, my pet? The Longbottoms. How would you like to join them?"

She wanted him to beg. He wasn't going to give her the satisfaction. "I remember them," he finally managed to croak, "You cast the Cruciatus there too. You aren't very creative, are you?"

Her features twisted, growing even uglier than he would have thought possible, and she clawed him across the face with her left hand, her nails tearing through his skin. She screamed, " _Crucio_!" and this time she didn't let up.

Finally, Voldemort's voice rang out over the room, "He's had enough for now." Bellatrix stopped. Harry wanted to pass out but he was in too much pain to do anything but twitch and hurt, his eyes screwed tightly shut. 

"Severus, return him." A sharp pain went through Harry's upper arm and he cried out. He was yanked to his feet but he couldn't stand, and the attempt made him puke. Snape roughly dragged out of the room, his legs sliding against the marble, causing him pain beyond belief. Finally, Snape grew tired of dragging him once they reached the hall. The tendrils of _Mobilicorupus_ carried him gently back to his cell and lowered him onto his bed.

"Open your mouth," ordered Snape. Figuring he was going to be fed healing potions, Harry accepted the potion. He choked, his shoulders rocking and horrible pain firing through him again. He wanted to throw up again but forced himself to swallow. 

Snape left, his footsteps loud in Harry's head as he walked down the hall. Harry allowed himself to moan. Fuck, the whipping hadn't been near as bad. The sleeping potion finally started to kick in and Harry welcomed it, trying to help it come on faster. At least he hadn't cried or begged.

~

When Harry woke, he was in a tub filled with a white liquid. He panicked when he realised he was under the water and opened his mouth to scream. A second later he remembered it was stupid to scream when finding oneself under water. A second after that he realised he could breathe but he was already upright at that point and staring at Snape who was sitting by the tub with a book open in his lap.

"You are wearing a bubble-head charm," Snape said calmly. "I suggest lying back down so that that healing potion can work on your upper body as well."

Snape wasn't wearing his robes. To Harry’s fuzzy eyes he appeared to be dressed in black bottoms and a black top that looked like a jumper. The sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, revealing a dark smudge that had to be the Dark Mark. He had never seen Snape's bare forearms before and they seemed almost obscene somehow. Harry stared at them in fascination.

"Harry," Snape's voice seemed to come from far away, "lie back down."

Harry did so and returned to sleep.

~

When he woke again, he was in his bed. His bladder felt close to bursting and he was sore all over, but the pain he had felt earlier from the Cruciatus had completely gone. He hurried over to the toilet and relieved himself. How long had he slept?

After washing his hands, he glanced around the room and saw food spread across the table. He felt as if he could eat an entire hippogriff! The main dish was a yummy smelling flaky white fish in a red sauce speckled with herbs, but the nearby bowl that looked and smelled like chicken noodle soup caught his attention. He tasted some and it was, without a doubt, the best soup he'd had. Freshly baked rolls with butter sat nearby, along with dessert: strawberries sprinkled with sugar. Pumpkin juice and water rounded out the meal. The house-elves had really gone all out this time. Harry dug in, trying a bit of everything else before attacking his fish eagerly. After eating and performing his toiletries, and dressing, he returned to his bed to read.

He hadn't got very far when Snape stepped into the room. Harry closed his book and sat up. It couldn't be time for more torture, could it?

Snape took a small vial out of his robes and walked over to Harry. "I need to put this on your face so you won't scar. Do you hurt?"

Harry shook his head and scooted to sit on the edge of the bed. He'd rather punch Snape than let him touch him, but his limbs hurt far too much to even work up a good kick. He would save his revenge for when he felt better and when he wasn't drugged into artificial calmness. "Not anymore. That white stuff really works."

Snape tilted the bottle into the palm of his left hand and painted a white cream over the scratches on Harry's face with his right. He bent in close to examine the marks and Harry was finally able to make out most of the features on his face. He looked the same as he did back in Hogwarts except for his eyes. Snape had always either looked at Harry with eyes that were cold or glittering with anger. Now, his eyes had an air of clinical detachment as if Harry were a potion to which he was adding an ingredient. He did not meet Harry's eyes but focused on his fingers' movements over the scratches. 

Snape finished before long, straightened, corked the vial, then washed his hands in the sink. "Don't touch your face for at least the next hour although it would be best if you didn't rub the lotion off for at least half a day. If you need to sleep, then try to rest on your back."

"Okay." Harry lay back on the bed and picked up his book. Snape left, heading towards the library.

~

Harry read off and on until Snape returned in a period of time Harry estimated to be about five hours later. He stepped quickly through the bars, touched the table with his wand so that food appeared, then left as hurriedly as he arrived. Harry plodded over to examine the dishes and found it basically the same meal that he was served for lunch although without the soup. He ate lazily, enjoying his meal. As he was finishing it off, he had a sudden flash of inspiration. Snape only gave him a spoon - no knife, no fork. Presumably he didn't want Harry to have a weapon. Yet, the bowl with the strawberries and sugar was ceramic. Harry threw it on the ground. It shattered, shards spreading wide across the floor, the biggest piece landing near the bed. Three inches wide and an inch thick with a sharp looking edge, it could be used as a weapon. Snatching it up, Harry stuffed it under his top mattress. The next largest piece was under the table. He was bending down to pick it up when Snape stormed in.

"Stupid boy!" he snarled, "Get on the bed, Potter!"

Harry glared at him but climbed onto the bed. Snape swept into the cell. " _Accio ceramic shards_!"

Harry sat heavily on the one hidden under his mattress, preventing it from joining the rest that Snape gathered in his robes. 

Snape hissed, "Be careful, you fool," before storming off. Harry waited until he was out of sight then retrieved his piece and stuck it under his pillow. With how quickly Snape had shown up, he'd probably hung out in the library. Annoying git. Snape treated Harry like some pest as if Harry had a choice in his imprisonment even though Harry hadn't been nearly half as annoying to Snape as he could've been. He stroked the shard under his pillow with his fingers and plotted until he fell asleep.

He was having a delightful dream about Ginny and another naked Horcrux search when Snape rudely interrupted him by tapping the table with his wand. Harry woke up, his cock hard, and bent his neck to glare at the Death Eater. "I was having a good dream."

"Get up, Potter," ordered Snape. "After you eat, you are getting a bath." 

Harry grumbled. He pulled his sheet further up his body and stealthily grabbed the shard from under his pillow, tying it to one of his drawstrings before tucking it in his bottoms. Carefully sliding out of the bed, he sat before the table. This time, the meal was composed of breakfast foods. There were crepes with whipped cream and a strawberry sauce alongside a thick omelette stuffed with onions, bell peppers, cheese, and mushrooms. Instead of pumpkin juice, orange juice rested next to the water. He had been given paper dishes this time. Even the drinks were in paper cups. 

He couldn't figure out how to eat the crepes with the spoon and ended up picking them up in his hands. Strawberry sauce dripped over his fingers and he got whipped cream on his nose. Snape had returned at some point and watched him eat. Harry licked his fingers clean and thought about licking the plate but felt embarrassed about doing so in front of Snape for some reason.

Snape finally grew impatient with him. "Hurry up, Potter. I have things to do."

Harry forced his expression into one of calm as he raged at Snape internally. He knew that Snape was trying to remind Harry that Harry couldn't do anything that he wanted to do. Snape probably blaming him for being locked up! But it was all Snape's fault. If Snape hadn't killed Dumbledore then Harry would be in the protection of Albus. He'd probably have destroyed all the Horcruxes by now. If Snape hadn't told Voldemort the prophecy then Harry's life would've been so much better. It was all Snape's fault. Even with the drugs keeping his rage from full force, the strength of Harry’s hatred of Snape was so strong that he could feel it pulsing in his chest like a wild animal. He needed to hide it if he was to escape though. With all his effort, Harry kept his rage off his face as he submissively removed his shirt and pushed his hands through the bars. Snape chained him, then parted the bars.

Carefully, Harry kept the shard on the side of his body away from Snape's eyes as he made his way to the bathroom. If he went too slowly Snape would become suspicious, but if he moved too quickly then it might fall out of his bottoms. When he reached the bathroom, he undressed, concealed the shard tucked in his bottoms. Snape remained well out of Harry's reach the entire time he was undressing. As Harry bathed himself, he considered his options.

Last night he had decided to try to escape again. Based on what he had observed, he, Snape, and the elves were the only occupants of the house most of the time. Voldemort showed up once in a while with friends to torture Harry but otherwise seemed to leave the two of them alone. Based on the lack of windows on the floor where his cell was, he assumed he was in the cellar and the floor above him the first story. The big doors in the throne room didn't seem to lead outside, but the door to outside was probably just beyond them. If he disabled Snape, he could run through the library, up the stairs, down the hall, through the throne room and out the front door. He was pretty sure that he was a faster runner than Snape and would mostly need to disable the Death Eater to account for his tied hands. Hermione had always been after him to pay more attention to his surroundings and her nagging had paid off. 

The hard part was getting out of the bathroom before Snape cast a spell on him. Snape knew enough wandless magic that even if Harry could snatch his wand from him or break it, he would still be able to stop Harry from leaving the room. Harry calculated Snape's weak points in his head. The man ordinarily wore too many clothes for Harry to go after his arteries or stomach. His best bet would be to try for his neck, wrist, or ankles.

Harry knew Snape would grow suspicious if he took too long in the bath so he climbed out and dried himself off. He bent down to pull on his bottoms and discretely took out the shard. Hiding the shard, he untied it from the drawstring, then grabbed his stomach and doubled over as if in pain. “Ow!” 

Snape swept to his side. "What's wrong?"

Harry groaned, "My stomach!" 

"Let me look." Snape knelt down in front of Harry to check. Harry waited until the Death Eater was as close as he ever got and then, holding the shard tightly in his right hand, he slashed at Snape's left ankle, going for the tendon along the back. At the same time, he threw his body against Snape's, knocking him back against the wall. 

It would've worked with almost any other wizard. Snape fell back and loud bang announced his skull connecting with the wall. Unfortunately for Harry, Snape grabbed onto Harry's left wrist as he fell and pulled Harry with him. Harry kicked at Snape with all his might, and managed to draw a grunt out of him when his feet connected with Snape's ribs. Snape yanked hard on Harry's wrist and tripped him using his own body. Harry fell, narrowly missing striking his head on the edge of the cabinet. As soon as he landed, he slashed at Snape again with his makeshift knife and cut open Snape’s left upper sleeve. Snape finally recovered from his shock long enough to yell, “ _Petrificus Totalus_!” and Harry was caught.

Harry couldn't believe his luck. Of all the Death Eaters to capture him, he had to be stuck with the one who actually knew how to fight. He raged in his mind as Snape pushed him onto the floor and stepped out of his range of vision. Snape's breathing was ragged and Harry knew he was beyond pissed off, but didn't care. Snape couldn't hurt him until Voldemort showed up and he doubted that would be anytime soon. 

He was lifted by _Mobilicorpus_ and floated back to his cell. 

"I have been very reasonable with you so far, Potter." Snape's voice was very low and controlled. "Yet, you continue to challenge my authority and engage in behaviour that suggests to me that you are wilfully being stupid." Harry was placed face up on his bed. Snape stepped over and took the shard. He tucked it into his robes, then uncast and recast the chaining spell to bind Harry cuffs to the bed posts. Finally, he released the body bind. 

Harry snarled and tried to kick at him. Snape caught his ankles and pressed them together as Harry arched his back. "Get off of me, you greasy bastard! Don't touch me!" 

Snape ignored him and held his ankles in place with one hand. With his other, he curled his fingers around the waistband of Harry's bottoms and yanked them down. Harry thrashed about wildly. "Stop! Don't!"

Snape released Harry's ankles and yanked his pyjama bottoms off the rest of the way. As soon as he could, Harry moved as far away from him as the chains allowed. He pressed himself up against the wall and stared at Snape, his breath ragged. 

Snape folded up Harry's bottoms. "Jugson was given the reward of torturing you at the next visit, but I will request to give you the lash again and this time, what Bellatrix did to you will seem merciful." With that threat, Snape left in a swirl of black.

Harry desperately tried to get his breathing back to normal. He hoped he had made Snape bleed. With nothing else to do, he tried to make himself go to sleep, but it was along time in coming.

 

_Please review!_


	5. Chapter 5

  
Author's notes: Harry’s hunting for the Horcruxes when he is captured by the Death Eaters and held as a prisoner/slave. Snape is positioned as his prison guard.  


* * *

Harry dreamt that Sirius hadn't died when he fell through the veil. Instead, he ended up with Voldemort, who kept him as a pet dog. Voldemort told Harry that he needed to learn the Cruciatus curse and he had to practice on Sirius. Harry tried to refuse, but Voldemort cast the Imperius Curse on him and made him do it while Sirius screamed and twisted and begged Harry to stop.

Harry woke with a gasp. He felt sick. He had to think of positive memories, not that stupid dream. Once he had calmed himself down, he attempted to get under the covers. It was very difficult to do with his hands chained to the bedposts and the top cover tucked all the way near the front, but he gripped the sheet with his toes and worked it out inch by inch. He was only able to cover himself up to his waist, but he instantly felt better with his genitals covered. Being naked made him feel so exposed and helpless and he hated it. He bet Snape had known that, the wanker. 

His bladder was full, but the last thing he wanted to do was piss the bed. He'd learnt to hold liquid in for long periods of time after being locked up by the Dursleys, so he put his need in the back of his mind. He stared up at the ceiling and replayed the scene from the bathroom in his mind. Snape had called him ‘wilfully stupid’ but he thought it was far more stupid to remain in a Death Eater prison than to try to escape. Did Snape expect him to just say "You caught me, do what you will"? Harry wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. The bastard had tortured Harry and announced that he would do it again and make it worse. Harry couldn't imagine how a whipping could be worse than the Cruciatus Curse, but he did not doubt that Snape would do his best to make it horrid. Sure, Snape would heal the wounds afterwards, but he had said many times that he only did that because Voldemort commanded him to. 

Harry turned over his situation in his head for hours until the pressure in his bladder became unbearable. Snape had promised to take away his voice if he made too much noise, but there was no way in hell Harry was pissing his bed. 

"Snape!" he yelled. He counted to thirty in his head then yelled the Death Eater's name again.

A banging of the door announced Snape's entrance. "Potter-"

"I have to take a piss!"

Snape waved his wand, removing the chains, and Harry scrambled to the toilet as fast as he could. 

Snape stepped into the cell and tapped the table with his wand. Food appeared and Snape left the room.

Harry washed his hands and hurried over to the table. The offerings were meagre compared to before; just two sandwiches of the strange fish stuff and water. He ate it quickly, almost finished with it when Snape returned. Snape floated a small towel over to rest on the sink. 

"If you want to take a bath, you can do so in the sink," Snape sneered at him.

"Fine," snapped Harry.

"And you will call me 'sir'," said Snape.

"Fine, sir," muttered Harry sarcastically.

Snape strode through the bars and advanced on Harry in an angry swirl of black. Harry jumped out of his chair and tried to run, but Snape flicked his wand and the chairs came alive and blocked his exit, trapping him in place. Snape grabbed one of Harry's wrists and yanked him after him as he marched out of the cell. 

"OW! GET OFF ME! YOU MURDERER! YOU COWARD!" Harry kicked and punched at Snape, landing blows on his well-covered limbs.

" _SILENCIO_!" Snape cut off Harry’s voice. He dragged him past the bathroom and opened the second door to the right, throwing Harry inside. 

Harry had enough time to see that he was in a small, bare room before Snape slammed the door shut plunging him into total darkness. The doorknob wouldn't turn, so he banged his fists against the door in anger until they hurt. 

Once Harry had calmed down, he explored the room by touch. It was about five feet wide and seven feet deep. He stood on his tiptoes, but couldn't reach the ceiling. In each corner of the room were bars that felt exactly like his bedposts. He felt around the door and wasn't surprised to find a flap at the bottom like the one the Dursleys had installed in his attic bedroom. He tried to push it out so that he could get some light, but it refused to budge either way.

Harry lay on the floor. If Snape thought this treatment would make him more docile, he was wrong. Harry was used to being locked up in small spaces by his Uncle, so a few days in a dark room wasn't going to make him listen to Snape. He lay there, thinking of his friends, until Snape opened the door several hours later.

"Are you ready to behave, Potter?" asked Snape in a sooty tone as he levitated a plate of food into the room. Harry felt his voice return.

Harry laughed, "My relatives made me live in a cupboard for ten years. This is like summer holiday, only better, because I don't have to do my homework in the dark." He grinned defiantly. 

Snape slammed the door in his face. Delighted at being able to annoy the bastard, Harry ate the sandwiches with relish. His hunger finally eased, he managed to fall asleep.

~

Snape woke Harry when he next opened the door. Bright light spilled in and Harry blinked up at the dark shadow that was Snape.

"If you wish to use the toilet, you will do so now," ordered Snape in a ‘don’t fuck with me’ voice.

Harry got to his feet.

"Put your wrists together." 

Harry toyed with the idea of refusing him, but Snape might lock him in and he did need to use the loo. He placed his wrists together, watching as the chain appeared between the manacles. Snape stepped back and Harry walked out into the hall. The bathroom door was opened, so he decided to use that toilet rather than try to return to his cell. Snape stayed well away from him, watching him every step. Harry washed his hands and then walked back to his new prison. He smiled at his captor as he sat back down in the small room. "I hope you are a patient man." 

From the way Snape slammed the door he was not.

Food floated in through the flap twice more over time that seemed to stretch for hours. Harry was given the same sandwiches every time. He thought hungrily of the meals he had in the other room as he ate. He was tempted to pretend to be obedient to Snape just to be able to eat like that again, but he didn't want to give Snape any control over him. Plus, he didn't know if he could. Every time he saw Snape, he thought of Dumbledore and Sirius and his parents. 

Harry thought about asking Snape for the book and a light when the Death Eater finally let him out to use the toilet again, but he didn't want to show any signs of weakness or need to Snape. Instead, he returned to his cell with a forced smile on his face. He curled up on the floor and made up various endings for the characters until he fell asleep.

~

Harry had a dream that Ron and Hermione had been captured and were being held in prisons by other Death Eaters. They were allowed to see each other when it was time to be tortured, and Harry had to watch his best friends whipped until they bled. He woke up shaking and couldn't get back to sleep. Curling up in a ball, he massaged his chest where it hurt. Ron and Hermione had to be alive. Surely the Death Eaters would brag to him if they had captured or killed them, right?

After far too long, Snape opened the door and Harry wearily got to his feet.

Snape said, "Put your wrists together," and Harry did so, stepping out as soon as the chain formed. He went into the bathroom and used the toilet. When he left the bathroom, he started to go back to his room, but Snape spoke from behind him, "Other way, Potter."

Harry turned and headed towards the library, dread filling him. Was Voldemort here? Snape was probably still upset over being stabbed.

"Potter, your cage is on your left." 

Harry turned around and stared at him. He noticed for the first time the opening in the bars. Not wanting to argue with a chance to return to his bed, he quickly entered the room. Snape removed the chain between his cuffs as soon as he crossed through the bars and Harry climbed into his bed. Snape followed him in and conjured up breakfast. 

Snape informed him, "The Dark Lord arrives tonight," and then left.

Heading over to eat, Harry found just the type of full, hearty food he had missed. The main course was Shepherd's pie, and it was better than any other version of it he had tried. Next to the main dish rested a paper bowl with a strange type of fruit Harry had never tasted before. It was bright orange and had a tangy flavour. The third dish was a bowl of steamed vegetables that had been seasoned with a delicious spice. To drink was the usual pumpkin juice and water. Harry had no idea Snape loved pumpkin juice so much. He had never seen the man drink it at Hogwarts. Then again, he'd never paid much attention to Snape outside the classroom at all. 

He ate everything, feeling delightfully satiated when he was finished. The food left him sleepy and he brushed his teeth then climbed into his bed. He stretched out on the mattress, enjoying the feel of the soft sheets against his skin. He fell asleep in minutes even with the bright light.

~

When he woke the table was cleared. He cleaned himself as best he could using the extra flannel Snape had given him. He hoped Snape would let him bathe again soon. Maybe if he ran around the cell until he smelt horrid, the Death Eater would be forced to give him access to the bath. He imagined himself bringing in his book and taking a long bubble bath while Snape ranted at him ineffectually. Remembering his book, Harry sat up and began to look for it.

After he had searched every inch of the cell twice, Harry gave up and fell back on his bed. He was disappointed Snape had taken the book but not as much as when he realised the git had stolen his clothes too. Harry was thinking of ways to make noise without it being obvious that he was doing it on purpose when Snape walked in. 

He ordered, "Potter, come with me," in his most authoritative voice.

Fuck. Voldemort. Harry had been so delighted about being back in his cell he had nearly forgot all about that. Snape conjured up the chain and then stepped back. Harry walked out of the cell and headed up to the throne room with his back straight. Snape could do his worst, but Harry would _never_ cry.

The Death Eaters were already gathered in the throne room. This time, Voldemort was flanked by a short, heavyset figure in black that had to be Jugson; a tall, dark haired man Harry couldn’t place; and a long haired blond – Malfoy. 

Something slammed into the back of his knees, forcing him to kneel. Snape walked over to Voldemort, who waved to Jugson. "Enjoy." Jugson grinned and bowed to his master. Voldemort turned and walked out the massive doors with Snape and the unknown Death Eater. 

Jugson approached Harry closely as if he were afraid the bound wizard was suddenly going to leap up and attack him. He pointed his wand between Harry's eyes. “ _Crucio_!”

It was painful as hell, but not nearly as bad as when Bellatrix had cast it. It also tapered out after about a minute and Harry pretended that it affected him longer than it did so that Jugson wouldn't renew it as quickly. Malfoy watched without speaking as Jugson became bored of casting Cruciatus and kicked Harry in his sides until his entire chest was covered in bruises. If Harry had been alone with him, he would've fought back against Jugson, but something about the way Malfoy was watching him filled him with an inexplicable fear. When Harry became too sore to stop trying to escape from the Death Eater's foot, he was treated to another round of Cruciatus. This time, he was already in so much pain that the Cruciatus hurt like Bellatrix’s had.

Luckily, Voldemort soon returned with the Death Eater Harry couldn't make out. While Harry panted on the floor, Voldemort announced, "Jugson, you are to accompany Severus on his task."

Jugson shivered and bowed. "Yes, my Lord. Thank you, my Lord. I won't fail you, my Lord."

"This is the most important task you've had so far. You know what will happen to you if you displease me." Voldemort's words sent shivers down the Death Eater's spine.

"Of course, my Lord." He hurried out the doors. Where was Voldemort sending Jugson and Snape? He hadn't found Ron and Hermione, had he?

Malfoy's cane pushed Harry's chin up and to the side, forcing Harry to look up at the fuzzy shape that was Draco's imperial father. "He is clumsy in his attempts to torture you. I noticed you did not cry or beg for mercy once. Trust me boy, when I am finished, you will do both on command."

Oh god. Malfoy was as sadistic as Bellatrix but not insane. He would be creative in his work. Harry pulled away, desperately hoping that Voldemort was leaving soon. He got his wish. 

"Lucius, let us return." Voldemort turned and left. Malfoy followed and only the Death Eater Harry didn’t know was in the room. The man strode over to him and picked him up by the arm. Harry recognised him immediately once he was close enough for his fuzzy vision to pick up: Walden Macnair. His grin was almost as wicked as Bellatrix's. 

"When it's my turn, I will cut off parts of your body one by one." He yanked hard, dragging Harry towards the stairs. Harry was too exhausted from Jugson's treatment to do anything other than stumble after him. Macnair was just trying to scare him, right? He couldn't imagine how painful it would be to try to regrow parts of his body. 

Mcnair dragged past his cell to the small room where he undid the chain connecting Harry’s cuffs, and twisted his arms around to behind his back. After recasting the chaining spell, Macnair thrust him into the room. Yet another chain spell was cast and a new chain appeared, connecting Harry's cuffs to one of the bars in the far corner room. Macnair left, leaving the door open. Harry struggled against his chains, but they were as strong as Snape's. Macnair returned with a small bucket in one hand and a small, black vial in the other. 

Using his thumb, he uncorked the vial. "Open your mouth." It had to be the painkiller. Harry opened his mouth, letting Macnair pour the potion down his throat. Macnair took a step back and shook the bucket at Harry.

"If you have to crap or piss, do it in here." Macnair said. "If you spill it, I will make you clean it up with your mouth." He threw it at Harry and then slammed the door. 

With the manacles and chains, Harry couldn't get in any position remotely comfortable. His sides ached from the beating Jugson had given him as well as the residual effects of the Cruciatus. At least Bellatrix hadn't been the one casting the Cruciatus. Harry lay on the floor and thought of his friends and food until sleep finally took him.

~

When he woke, his entire body ached. He gingerly righted himself, trying not to aggravate his injuries. His hunger gnawed at him and he did his best to ignore it and think about his friends. Hours and hours passed before the flap was opened and something in an open can was shoved in. It smelled familiar yet strange, and he cautiously approached it.

Dog food. His stomach turned. He recognised the smell from when Aunt Marge visited. He returned to his spot along the far wall. He was hungry, but not that hungry. He wanted water more than anything. As if to tease him, his bladder reminded him that he had not given it release for a very long period of time. Trying to use the bucket with his hands tied behind his back was difficult and it took him a while to get in a position where he was confident it wouldn't spill. He carefully moved it as far out of his reach as he could when he was finished. 

A while after that he ate the dog food. It was wet, slimy, tasted horrific and he had to stop half way to keep himself from throwing up, but he was so hungry that he managed to finish it all. 

He flittered in and out of sleep. Due to his discomfort and hunger it didn't seem as if he would actually get any rest. The pain of his bruised torso had remained, a mild discomfort that constantly remained with him. He was careful with how he moved to prevent any flair ups. 

It was after he had drifted in and out of sleep for the twentieth time that he focused on his cell and how much he desperately wanted to be back there. He missed his soft bed, the daily baths, the amazing food, and his book. Snape was annoying, evil, foul tempered, and ugly but even at his worst, he treated Harry twice as well as Macnair. Harry hoped that Voldemort would punish Macnair for neglecting him, but maybe discomfort wasn't enough to earn Voldemort's wrath. 

The next time when the dog food arrived he ate it immediately.

Nightmares came and went. He was trapped in the body of a dog and unable to do anything while his friends pronounced him dead and had a funeral for him. Hermione was crying on Ron's shoulder as they lowered his casket into the grave. Ginny was sobbing, her thin shoulders shaking as she clung to her mother. Harry barked at them and tried to tell them that he was still alive but they couldn't hear him. "Go ’way, dog," grumbled Hagrid through his tears. He woke with a block of ice in his chest so big he had trouble breathing.

After several hours, he managed to calm himself down. He had to be strong for the sake of his friends. He would get out of here and he would kill Voldemort and he would have a huge party with tables and tables of the best foods in the world. He'd have plenty of that tangy orange fruit, piles of it as big as his head. 

He was trying to decide what frosting he wanted on his chocolate cake when the door opened. The hallway's light pierced the closet and he squeezed his eyes shut, his eyes not used to the brightness of the light. The chains on his arms fell away.

"Get up, Potter." 

Harry had never been so glad to hear Snape's voice even if he was being a git like usual. He stumbled to his feet, leaning against the wall for support. When he opened his eyes, Snape had left the doorway. He gingerly stepped out and saw Snape waiting by the bathroom door which was opened. Walking on shaky legs, Harry stumbled into the bathroom while Snape spelled open the taps.

Harry climbed into the tub, enjoying the feel of the warm water against his skin. He relaxed, completely submerging himself before he sat up and began to clean his skin. He felt filthy and gave himself a good scrub down. As he was shampooing his hair he looked around the room for the first time and was surprised to see Snape wasn't in his usual spot. In fact, he didn't seem to be in the bathroom at all. Harry rinsed out his hair, emptied the tub and ran the shower briefly to rinse completely clean. He stepped out of the bathtub and wrapped himself in a towel. He wandered over to the sink and peered at his reflection in the mirror. He couldn't make out his face very well, but his hair was sticking up even more than normal. He was trying to open the spelled shut cabinet door when Snape returned.

"Your chest needs to be bandaged. Follow me." He left the doorway.

Harry thought about refusing to do what Snape wanted and instead give in to the powerful urge to attack the Death Eater, but he was hungry and if he angered Snape, then he might refuse to be Harry's prison guard any longer. As much as Harry hated Snape, he would rather sleep in a bed, eat full meals, and have regular baths than be locked in a cupboard and fed dog food. He'd never had a chance at escape if they left him in that cupboard. If that meant that he had to put up with visits from the only person he hated as much as Voldemort, he would deal with it. 

Keeping his towel wrapped tightly around himself, Harry returned to his cell. There were bottles sitting on the opposite end of the table from where his food normally rested. Snape motioned for Harry to come stand by the end of the table. Realising what Snape wanted, Harry retied his towel around his waist and walked over. Snape poured the contents of two of the bottles into the palm of his left hand and then rubbed his hands together. His fingers flat, he rubbed the ointments into Harry's torso in broad strokes. He reapplied the ointments to his fingers as necessary and turned Harry slowly in order to easily reach every bruise. When his fingers had passed over every inch of discoloured skin, he picked up a roll of bandages and carefully wrapped it around Harry’s chest. He attached it in the back, then left to wash his hands in the sink.

Harry tested his level of movement and found that the bandages were fairly flexible. Already the soreness had left him and he felt fine, although extremely hungry. As if reading his thoughts, Snape tapped his wand to the table and a feast appeared.

Harry hurried over and grabbed the bowl of soup in his hands. He gulped it down, not caring that it slightly burned his mouth. Snape gathered up his things as Harry attacked the roast chicken. When everything had been tucked in his robe but one vial, Snape opened it and poured a drop into Harry's pumpkin juice. Continuing to eat his chicken, Harry watched Snape closely. He knew Snape had been dosing his food since the beginning, but he had never seen him do it before.

"That will heal any lingering internal injuries." Snape tucked the bottle back into his robes. "Drink the juice before it separates or the taste will be too foul for you to finish."

Harry nodded around his mouth full of chicken to show he understood. Snape left in a cloud of black. When Harry finished the food, he brushed his teeth, delighted to have the taste of dog food out of his mouth. On his bed, he found his clothes and his book piled neatly by his pillow. He eagerly dressed and then slid between the sheets. Still holding his book, he fell asleep.

~

He woke when Snape conjured dinner.

"I need to examine your chest." Snape stepped over to the side of the bed. 

Harry pulled off his shirt and slid to the edge of the bed. Snape took out his wand and ran it down the front of Harry's bandages. It cut through them evenly without causing any effect on Harry's skin. Both halves fell away and Harry glanced down at his chest to see most of the splotches had disappeared. Only the two really big ones on his right side still remained and they were greatly faded in colour. Harry prodded the marks with his fingers but didn’t feel any pain.

Snape destroyed the bandages with a flick of his wand. "While chaining you in a cupboard and feeding you dog food is not my preferred method of behaviour modification, it has proven itself to be quite efficacious, and since I am loath to engage in a repeat of last week, I ask you to not be disruptive unless you are near death. Is that understood?" 

Harry had no idea what Snape had just said but assumed he was just telling him to stay quiet or he would let Macnair have him again for a few days. Geeze, why couldn't the git just use English? Harry rolled his eyes and said, "Right."

Snape stiffly nodded to him and then left. Harry approached the table eagerly, finding more roast chicken, although cornbread and a salad with a tangy dressing completed the meal. Snape apparently had gallons of pumpkin juice in his house. 

After dinner, Harry lay on his bed and thought over his situation. He had expected Snape to be far crueler to him but so far, the Death Eater seemed to prefer to avoid Harry's presence and compared to Macnair, Snape was downright nice, which was really strange. Harry still wanted to make Snape pay for his crimes, but attacking the git and showing open defiance towards him had resulted in nothing but misery. As Hermione would say, he needed to be smart about this. He needed to get Snape to let down his guard so he could have another chance at escape. He had been drugged when he made his first two escape attempts, but now his head felt clearer than it had for weeks, and his emotions weren't as muted by potions. This time, if he tried to escape, he'd probably be able to get out. 

If he had to pretend to be nice to Snape in order to lull him into a false sense of security, then he could do that. Hopefully, the Order or Ron and Hermione would come and rescue him before long. He doubted he’d be in this prison for very much longer. 

Feeling satisfied, Harry read his book until he fell asleep. 

 

_Please review!_


	6. Chapter 6

  
Author's notes: Harry’s hunting for the Horcruxes when he is captured by the Death Eaters and held as a prisoner/slave. Snape is positioned as his prison guard.  


* * *

Harry woke from a wonderful dream he didn't remember, feeling refreshed. Snape hadn't conjured food for him yet, so he sprawled out on his bed and read. He had got to Frollo's confession of love when Snape appeared on the other side of the bars. Harry tossed the book onto the bed beside him. "He's a lecher!" he said, referring to Frollo. "He should leave poor gypsy girl alone. He acts like hurting himself excuses him for everything he's done."

"He can't help himself; he is desperately in love with her," said Snape as he stepped through the bars.

"He's going to get her killed! She's already been tortured because of him!"

"He has decided that if he can't have her, no one can." Snape tapped the table with his wand and breakfast appeared.

"That's not love," Harry scoffed. "That's obsession. I hope Quasimodo kills him. He's old and ugly and a dirty pervert." Sliding out of bed, he padded over to the table.

Snape crossed his arms. "Your implication that only the young and beautiful deserve love is asinine, but I am not surprised to hear it from the likes of you. You young fools always place appearance above character and ostracize those who do not match conventional standards of beauty. Furthermore, you've neglected to observe any parts of the relationship between Quasimodo and Frollo, and yet you argue for patricide in such a cavalier fashion. He should kill the only man who has ever cared for him for the sake of a silly girl who finds his visage abhorrent?" 

"Of course! The old man doesn't love him; he's just using him. Yeah, she finds him ugly and she's never going to be with him, but he could admire her from afar and he'd know that she's alive because of him." Dropping into his chair, Harry glanced over the dishes before him. He’d been given the same meal as the last.

"Mr Potter, I think you'll find that there are very few individuals who can gaze upon their heart's desire and not be consumed by the need for possession. That is why men waste away in front of the Mirror of Erised." Turning, Snape walked away.

"I'd kill him," insisted Harry as Snape walked out of sight.

After his morning ablutions, Harry took off his shirt and exercised until his limbs ached. He used the flannel to bathe himself as best he could before returning to his book. The workout had left him sleepy and he only read a few chapters before drifting off.

~

Harry dreamt he was a gypsy who danced in Diagon Alley for coins. He wore bells on his wrists and ankles, loose black bottoms, a white blouse, and a vest with red and gold stripes in it. An excellent dancer, he flipped and twirled his body across the pavement with the skill of an expert gymnast. Hedwig accompanied him and spelled words with her beak to the delight of the crowd.

One morning, after he had finished his routine, he bent to collect the proffered coins when he heard the clip of hooves behind him. Turning around, he saw a magnificent white steed. Perched royally on its back was a most handsome boy with a pale face, pointed chin, grey eyes, and long white hair that glittered in the sun. He was dressed in the finest wizard robes Harry had ever seen: black with a vivid green trim.

"You dance well, boy," complimented the handsome stranger and Harry suddenly knew that he was Phoebus and Draco. 

"Thank you." He bowed with a flourish, his heart rate quickening at the compliment.

Draco climbed down from his horse. "Follow me." He took Harry into a building that had suddenly appeared on the corner of the street. They walked through a maze of streets and then up a winding staircase that twisted and turned and abruptly ended in a bedroom. 

Draco pressed him up against a wall and kissed him. Little sparks erupted across Harry's lips as they explored each other’s mouths. Harry was suddenly hard and he rubbed himself against Draco. Draco's fingers slid down his chest and then he had Harry's cock in his hand. Harry arched into Draco at that sinfully exquisite touch before he recovered himself and pulled away. 

"No, I can't. Not until I find my parents." He pulled away and crossed the wide room to sit on the bed.

"Your parents are dead." Draco was suddenly on top of him, his body warm and hard as he pressed down on Harry. "Have sex with me and you will never be empty again."

"Okay," agreed Harry and let Draco give him electric kisses along his neck. He was desperately rubbing up against the other boy when Snape suddenly burst into the room. " _Expelliarmus_!"

Draco flew off of Harry and into a wall. Snape , dressed as a priest, stalked over to Harry and grabbed his arm. "You belong to me, you stupid brat." He Apparated with Harry to the middle of a bell tower. Dobby was there, grinning at Harry with a loopy smile, "Dobby loves bells, Harry Potter!"

"Dobby, you have to save me!" cried Harry as Snape dragged him past the bells.

"Dobby must ring the bells, Harry Potter sir!" Dobby jumped on the biggest one and a loud clang rang out, knocking Harry into Snape. 

Snape pulled him outside and they were on top of the Astronomy tower. Voldemort was waiting for him, sneering at both, his wand pointed at Harry’s chest. "Give me the boy, Severus. I need to kill him by sundown."

"No, he’s mine and you can't take him." Snape grabbed Harry and pushed him back behind him. Harry realised he was a step away from falling to his doom. "Snape, stop! You’re going to kill me!" 

Snape ignored him and shot an angry red spell Voldemort. Sparks from their wands flew and a vicious spell knocked Snape back against the wall. Realising he couldn't win against Voldemort, Snape cried, "If I can’t have him no one will!" And he pushed Harry off the tower.

Harry woke before he hit the ground. He gasped for breath, panting as he stared at the wall in front of him. What a crazy dream. Snape must've given him some strange potion to have a gay sex dream. A gay sex dream about _Malfoy_ no less. "Augh." Harry threw back the covers and climbed out of bed. He wouldn't be sleeping for some time. He glanced at his book, but blamed it for the odd sequence and decided to avoid it for a while.

Determined not to think about what an amazing kisser the dream Malfoy had been, Harry amused himself by learning to balance the chairs on top of the table.

When Snape showed up, Harry asked him a question as soon as he spotted the familiar black smudge enter the hallway.

"What if I wasn't dying but wanted to talk to you?" He pulled himself to the edge of the table and returned to the floor, certain that Snape wouldn't appreciate him laying on the table. Luckily, he had already returned the chairs to the floor.

"I doubt there would be such a need, but should it ever occur, you are allowed to call for me. However, if you abuse the privilege, the consequences would be the same." Snape remained outside the bars. "It is time for your bath."

"I prefer showers, you know." Harry informed him just to be petulant, but obediently took off his shirt and stuck his hands through the bars. The chairs had been heavier than they looked and he wanted to clean himself off.

Snape spelled the chain. "I assumed that you were astute enough to figure out how to operate something as simple as a bathtub, Potter, but once again I have made the mistake of overestimating your intelligence."

Harry wanted to slam his fist into Snape's mouth until he knocked out all the crooked, nasty teeth, but he forced himself to bury his rage and follow Snape docilely to the bathroom. He climbed into the tub and yanked up the lever to turn on the shower. Even though there was no shower curtain, the water stayed in the tub. Snape vanished the chain and Harry hummed to himself as he cleaned his body. He was washing his penis, his length twitching excitedly in his hand, when it suddenly occurred to him that he was standing stark naked, fully exposed, in front of his former professor. He kept his back to Snape as heat stormed across his face. Maybe a shower wasn't such a good idea after all? He had got so used to having Snape observe him he had forgotten he was there, the creep. Harry quickly finished his shower, thinking it would look odd if he suddenly switched to a bath so near the end. He wrapped himself in a towel as soon as he was properly rinsed. 

Keeping himself covered with his towel, he wiggled his bottoms back on. The process was much longer than usual since he was trying to hold up the towel with one hand and put on his bottoms with the other. Finally, Snape snapped, “Just put on your trousers; it's not like I haven’t seen it already.”

Harry's face grew incredibly hot and he scurried back to his cell as soon as his bottoms were tied securely around his waist. "Yeah, I forgot for a bit what a pervert you are."

"I think you are projecting, Potter." Snape opened the bars for him and Harry hurried through to sit on his bed. Snape followed and tapped the table with his wand.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry crossed his arms and glared at the fuzzy blob that was Snape.

"That's the second time you've stimulated yourself in my presence." Snape stepped out of the cell. 

Harry yelled, "I forgot you were there!" in embarrassment at the disappearing smear of black. 

After Harry finished his meal of pork chops, yams, and steamed vegetables, he decided it was safe to read his book again. He was engrossed in a chapter when Snape stepped through the library door. Snape rarely visited him three times in a day and, with a spike of dread, he realised it had been a while since he had been tortured. Resolutely closing his book, Harry put it to the side as Snape stepped in through the bars.

"I noticed that you have nearly finished reading _The Hunchback_ , said Snape, holding up something large and rectangular in his hands. "Based on your alacrity for finding trouble, I have procured another book for you to read." He sent it floating through the bars.

Along the spine and across the cover, the words ‘ _World Mythologies_ ’ had been stamped in tarnished silver. The yellowed pages were disheveled as if it had been read and reread constantly. Harry had thought the other book was huge, but this was twice as big with even smaller text. 

"Thanks?" Harry was pretty sure Snape had insulted him while giving him the book, based on the stiff tone of his voice, but heroes and mythical creatures were far more interesting than creepy old men and deformed midgets. 

"Now strip, Lucius is waiting." 

Harry felt as though Snape had just thrown him in a pool of iced water. He methodically undid his clothing. For a hysterical moment he thought of refusing to go with Snape and making him force him through magic, but now that Voldemort was here, Snape might use pain to compel him to move, and he'd sworn that he'd walk to his doom with his head high. He got to his feet, but his knees locked and he almost fell over. Snape steadied him with a hand on his back and walked him through the bars. He kept his hand on the small of Harry's back as they passed through the library and up the stairs. At the top he tapped the left manacle with his wand and the chain appeared between Harry's cuffs.

"He arrived a day early. I wouldn't have fed you tonight if I had known," said Snape in a rough voice. Harry wanted to throw himself at the Death Eater and beg him to whip him - do anything he wanted to him - but not to let Malfoy touch him. 

He didn't though. Instead, he walked through the door on trembling legs. Voldemort and Malfoy were there along with Dolohov. Snape didn't have to use magic for Harry to end up on his knees in the centre of the room. Harry tried to calm himself as Malfoy strode over, stopping right beside him. The Death Eater conjured a table and set a black box on it. He waved his wand and the chain binding Harry’s cuffs disappeared. A strong hand gripped his hair and yanked him to his feet. As soon as Harry was on his feet, Malfoy pushed his arms apart.

“ _Concretio Ferratilis_.” Chains appeared, connecting each cuff to the ceiling, pulling his arms up and apart so taunt, they hurt. Malfoy kicked his legs apart, and cuffs appeared around his ankles. He struggled but his legs were spread so wide it was painful to try to move them. Having his body stretched into the shape of an X left him feeling incredibly vulnerable and defenceless. His genitals dangled exposed between his legs and there seemed to be miles of open skin on his body for Malfoy to hurt. 

Lucius slowly walked around Harry as if surveying a work of art. He picked something up from the table and brought it over. Harry tensed before he recognised what it was: _his glasses_! Malfoy slid them over Harry’s nose with a surprisingly gentle touch. Harry had got used to things being fuzzy and it was strange to see clearly again. He blinked as his eyes adjusted.

"Much better." Malfoy was smiling at him with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "I want you to see everything that I do to you."

Harry's insides twisted. He looked away from Malfoy's face to see Snape sitting by Voldemort on the dais. Snape had a look of bored disinterest on his face, the long fingers of his right hand lightly tapping the arm of the chair he rested in. Harry shifted his glance to Voldemort and was dismayed to find a raw hunger twisting his alien features. He hated the way Voldemort was watching him and he squeezed his eyes shut to block it out. Malfoy spanked Harry’s bare arse, causing him to jump. 

"I did not give you permission to close your eyes, boy."

Harry wrenched his eyes open. He would've talked back to any other Death Eater, even Voldemort himself, but there was something in Malfoy's eyes that scared him more than he'd ever been scared before.

Malfoy opened the box and calmly pulled out a smaller, long wooden container. He opened it, showing the insides to Harry who hesitantly looked to see two dozen objects that looked like oversized needles. They were about four inches long and silver, neatly lined up in perfect rows. Malfoy gently placed the box back on the table and removed black gloves from his robes. He made a show of sliding them on his hands before he carefully picked up a needle. He held it close to Harry's face, as if showing off how sharp it was, and Harry tried to push his head as far away from the needle as it would go.

In an easy, almost jovial tone, Malfoy said, "I am going to stick these in you. I'll give this one to you as a gift, but you will need to ask for the rest of them. When you ask for them you will say 'another, please' and I will give it to you. Whenever I ask you a question you will answer with 'yes, sir' or 'no, sir,' is that understood?”

Harry swallowed thickly. Malfoy clicked his tongue in disapproval and slashed Harry’s cheek with the needle. A wake of fire followed the path of the tip and Harry cried out in pain.

Malfoy sharply said, "I asked you a question, boy. Now give me an answer." He held the needle up again, poised for another strike.

"Yes, sir," Harry answered quickly. He could get through this. It was just like with Umbridge. He would give Malfoy the bare minimum of compliance.

"Much better." Malfoy smiled before pinching Harry's right nipple, pulling on it hard before he pushed the needle through the taught skin behind it. 

Harry hissed and squeezed his eyes shut at the pain of it. The needle pieced through the skin on the other side, and Malfoy removed his hands, leaving the length stuck in Harry's areola. Both his cheek and his areola burned intensely and he whimpered when the pain did not fade. 

"I coated the needles in Hellesborne," gloated Malfoy. Harry opened his eyes to see Malfoy’s smug smile. "You will feel the pain of them for hours. Would you like another?" He picked up a second needle.

"No, sir," Harry said.

"I'm a patient man." Malfoy carved up Harry's cheek starting with his lower left jaw. Harry tried to jerk his head back, but Malfoy held him in place as he slowly crossed the other wound. "I will decorate you with paintings until you ask for me to put it in your skin,” he purred as he finished with Harry's cheek and ran the tainted needle down the right side of Harry's neck causing another wave of fire to follow in its wake.

Having the needle in his chest hurt like hell, but with the herb or whatever it was that Malfoy was using he knew it would be far more painful to let the Death Eater give him poisoned cuts all over. He held out until Malfoy began to cut up his chest and then he knew it would be better to just get this whole thing over with as quickly as possible.

He gasped, "Another, please!" 

"Smart boy." Malfoy smiled and pinched Harry's other nipple. He slid the second needle in place while Harry grunted and bit his tongue so hard he drew blood.

Malfoy picked up the third needle and twisted his lips in a way that could almost be considered affectionate if it weren't for the malicious glint in his eyes. He didn't have to wait for long before Harry obliged him, "Another please."

Malfoy decorated Harry's thighs, arms, and chest with the pins. He got to eight before Harry couldn't hold back his cries of pain and at fourteen Harry couldn't stand the torture anymore. 

"I can't-!" He started to plead but Malfoy slashed him across the stomach viciously. "I did not give you permission to speak, boy! If you disobey me again I will pierce your tongue."

Harry somehow managed to ask for the last six. When the final needle slid into place he sobbed with relief.

He closed his eyes and hung his head as clapping rang through the room.

"Wonderful, Lucius." Voldemort was saying as if the Death Eater had just sung him a beautiful aria. "I wish I had time to enjoy more of your work, but we must be off."

Malfoy yanked all the needles out at once with a whispered spell and Harry choked back his scream. When Malfoy had returned the needles to the box, he plucked the glasses from Harry's nose and strode out after Voldemort. 

Harry squeezed his eyes tightly shut and hung against his chains as he tried to ignore the pain in his body. He hated his fear and his weakness. He should've been stronger than that. He should've been defiant until the end. 

Someone approached him and he recognised Snape by the smell of potion fumes. Snape's fingers closed in his hair and pushed back his head as a bottle pressed against his lips. Obediently opened his mouth, Harry drank. The familiar sweet taste of the painkiller mixed with sleeping potion was ambrosia on his cut tongue and he tried to will it to move through his system as quickly as possible. Snape released Harry's bonds and he sagged against the tall Death Eater, too shaken to stand. Snape gripped Harry's upper arm firmly and marched him back to the basement, Harry's legs trembling as he followed Snape's lead.

Snape pulled down to the bathroom rather than his cell, and helped him into the tub, turning on the taps for him. Harry stared down at himself and found he was quite bloody. As he cleaned himself off, the water in the tub turned pinkish. It was difficult for him to move while the drugs rolled through his system but he did his best, not wanting Snape to touch him any more than necessary. When he finished, Snape lifted him up out of the tub, dried him off, and then supported him back to his bed. Harry screwed his eyes tightly shut and pressed himself against his mattress, burying his face in his pillow. He was ashamed of his tears, but he couldn't stop them from coming. He had never felt so weak, so helpless and he hated it. He was angry at himself, angry at Malfoy, angry at Snape, angry at everyone. Finally, the potions kicked in and he allowed the sleeping potion to take him away completely.

~

A touch on his shoulder woke him up. "You need to eat, Potter."

"I'm not hungry," he mumbled into his pillow.

"At least have a drink."

"I'm not thirsty."

The hand moved off his skin and Harry drifted off again.

~

He had a strange dream that Snape was bathing him. He was in the bathtub and Snape was running a warm flannel over his body. Snape wore a sweater and his forearms were exposed, his Dark Mark moving as he ran the washcloth tenderly over Harry's limbs. He was saying something, but all Harry heard was low thunder.

"Whip me," begged Harry.

Snape leaned in close and Harry thought he was going to kiss him but he just whispered softly, "I can't give you what you want, but I will give you what you need."

That didn't make any sense and Harry closed his eyes and left to find a better dream.

 

[[I wrote the Draco/Harry scene for my friend who loves that pairing. I love writing the dreams and I’ve had to restrain myself so that I don’t fill the fic with dream sequences. ]]


	7. Chapter 7

"Get up, Potter!" demanded Snape and Harry pulled the covers up over his head. Snape yanked them off and dragged Harry out of bed at the same time, pushing him into a chair. "You will eat your breakfast or I will force it down your throat. I have work for you to do today and if you don’t eat, you will be even more useless than normal." He left in an angry swirl of black. Harry stared at the dishes before him. He’d been given a thick, white soupy looking thing, crepes with strawberry jam and whipped cream, orange juice, pumpkin juice, water, and more of the strange tangy, orange fruit. Picking up a piece of the fruit, he nibbled on it. He was going to have to ask Snape what it was called; he had never had anything as delicious. After he finished the fruit, he felt hungry for breakfast. He ate everything, then used the toilet, washed his hands, brushed his teeth, and combed his hair. When he finished his morning routine, he found his clothing and his books resting by the edge of the bed. Harry dressed and lay down on his bed to read. He was involved in the passage of the storming of Notre Dame when Snape returned. "Come here, Potter." It was pointless to resist and he wanted any chance he could to get out of his cell, so Harry put down the book and crossed the room to put his hands through the bars. After chaining him, Snape stepped back and waved the bars open. Snape pulled a black cloth from his robes and placed it over Harry’s eyes, blindfolding him. "What's this?" asked Harry in alarm, the ennui he had been drowning in broken with his loss of sight. He raised his hands to pull it off. Snape grabbed the chain between Harry’s cuffs, stopping him. "You are not to see where I am taking you. Come, I will not harm you unless you misbehave," he promised and tugged on the chain to lead Harry. Where could they be going? Snape never took him anywhere except the throne room, so he allowed Snape to pull him along. Snape led him through the library and up the stairs. They turned once they reached the top of the stairs and Harry swallowed thickly, afraid that they were going to the throne room. Instead, Snape pulled him through the third door instead, stepping into a room that was carpeted like the hall. They walked several paces before another door was opened and more carpeting greeted Harry's bare feet. Snape remained quiet as he opened yet another door and Harry felt marble under his feet as he trotted after Snape. He had the distinct sensation that they were outside by the change in air, although he did not feel a breeze nor hear any noises. Another door was opened and Harry stepped on wood. Snape put his hand on Harry's shoulder, pulling him to a stop. "There are stairs here," he informed Harry. Carefully, Harry walked down the staircase, listening to Snape's steps to judge where he should put his feet. Once they reached the bottom, Harry’s feet touched cool stone and Snape led him forward a short ways before he stopped Harry again and removed the blindfold. Harry blinked his eyes, not believing what he saw: a potions lab. It was huge, almost as big as the entire classroom had been back at Hogwarts. It appeared to have been cut out of a cave with rough stone composing the walls and floors. Wooden shelves filled with all sorts of containers covered most of the walls, their contents a kaleidoscope of colours, shapes and sizes. In the centre of the room, four massive cauldrons boiled in a rectangular pit, their contents unrecognisable to Harry. Eight heavy work tables flanked the pit, their surfaces covered in mostly unknown contents, although Harry recognised two smaller cauldrons on the table furthest to his left mostly by the bright multi-coloured smoke emanating from each one. Harry couldn't believe it. Snape had brought him to his personal lab? Harry hoped he wouldn't be expected to make anything. He wasn't the best at potions even with his glasses on. In fact, he was sure he had had a nightmare that went something like this: being locked in a dungeon and forced to take a never-ending potions lesson where Snape picked on him for everything he did and kept failing him no matter how hard he tried. Snape conjured a stool in front of the worktable closest to Harry on the right. Harry reluctantly took it, staring at the mostly empty surface as Snape removed the chain between his cuffs and then re-chained him to the worktable, although he left enough length on the chain for Harry to move his arms almost two feet in each direction. Turning around, Snape fetched a tray and pushed it over to Harry’s side of the worktable. Harry peered at it to see tons of empty small glass jars. Snape set a larger black jar next to the tray, and twisted off the lid. Harry watched with interest as Snape reached inside the jar and removed a small green object. He held it out for Harry, who opened his palm to accept it. Whatever it was, it was round and spiney, although the little spokes that covered its surface did not prick his fingers. Harry had never seen anything like it, but he guessed it was some sort of plant. "What is it?" "They are seeds of _Datura inoxia_ , more commonly known as Devil’s Trumpet," Snape answered. "I had these shipped from Southern California. An exquisitely beautiful yet deadly flower, it was used by the Aztecs for its hallucinogenic properties." Harry quickly set the ball down on the table. "It won’t affect you unless you ingest it." Snape assured him. "Place five pods in each jar." "This would go a lot quicker if I had my glasses," complained Harry but he started to count out five from the jar. "It would, but you don’t need them now." Snape moved over to one of the huge cauldrons in the pit and began to stir it languidly. "I think you just prefer me without glasses because I don't look like my dad without them," grumbled Harry, annoyed that Snape was telling him what he needed. Snape did not say anything in response and Harry concentrated on his work. After several minutes, Harry discretely nudged one of the seeds into his lap. He thought using poisons to be rather cowardly, but he needed as many weapons as he could get. "Put that back, Potter," Snape said. "If you try to steal any more, I will punish you." Harry reluctantly placed it back on the table. Snape must've had hawk eyes to notice that all the way across the room. He returned to his duties. When Harry finished his task, he sat back on the stool and watched Snape putter around his laboratory, adding extra ingredients to his potion. Shortly, Snape finished and returned to Harry. He retied the blindfold, fixed the chain, then led Harry back to his cell. Harry paid close attention to the directions that they were moving and the feel of each new room or passageway. He was sure that they were outside when they walked down that one particular hallway that led from a room of wood to a hallway of carpet. When Harry realised he was standing in his cell again, he thought back over his journey and estimated that the potions lab was set apart from the house to the right of the throne room. On his next escape attempt, he would know where to go. Snape removed the blindfold and the chain before leaving. Harry wandered over to his bed and picked up _Hunchback_. He was determined to finish it before he started the mythology book. He quickly became involved in the story and did not notice Snape's return until the Death Eater cleared his throat. Harry threw the book down on the floor and sat up to exclaim, "I can't believe it! He saved the goat! The goat instead of the girl!" "This surprises you?" said Snape with an amused tone to his voice. "And that pervert!" Harry continued to rant, "’the tomb, or my bed.’ What kind of choice is that? She’s gotta be the sex slave of an ugly, old creep or die. I think I'd choose death too." "She would've been much better off had she agreed to Frollo's terms and then killed him in his sleep," countered Snape as he stepped through the bars and spelled food on the table. "She's far too noble and pure to do something like that! You think too much like a Slytherin." Harry waited until the Death Eater had moved away from the chair before he approached it to eat his meal. Snape snorted in derision on his way out. "Noble? I think you mean stupid and short sighted. You must admit that her death was no other fault than her own." Harry whirled around in his chair to face Snape. "What? How is it her fault? Frollo was the one who stabbed Phoebus and got her charged with murder! Yeah, she was stupid to care so much about Phoebus who treated her like dirt, but she couldn't help it. She was in love." "You excuse her behaviour on account of love but do not do the same for Frollo?" asked Snape, pausing outside the bars. Harry frowned at him. "It's different! Frollo didn't care about her at all; he just wanted her as if she was an object or something. Esmeralda was innocent and truly loved Phoebus." Snape’s eyebrows climbed up towards his hair. "Did she? She fell in love with him based on his appearance and misread his thoughts and intentions nearly every time they interacted. She loved him for who he appeared to be rather than for who he was. Think of how poorly she treated Quasimodo at first; he was ugly in appearance, but far more innocent and caring than even she. Compare him with his direct opposite, Phoebus, her love, who was perfect in form yet corrupt within." "Like Dobby and Draco," murmured Harry, remembering his dream. "Dobby and Draco?" echoed Snape, the line between his eyebrows growing darker. Harry flushed. "Never mind. So is he trying to say that love is bad or something?" "No, I don't believe that is the intent of the book at all. It speaks very highly of familial love for example." Snape steepled his fingers. "I think the message you should take from this book is that, contrary to what others have repeatedly told you, love is not always a positive force-" "But-" Snape held up his hand for quiet. "I assume you are about to argue that what the characters feel is not true love." At Harry’s nod he continued, "Yet, when we try to make such distinctions we run the risk of dismissing love completely. Do you feel that your love for your parents is less than your love for your friends because you've never met your parents and don't know them personally?" Harry scowled. A burst of hot anger flowed through him at how casually Snape had mentioned Harry’s parents as if he weren't responsible for their deaths but he forced it down. "No, of course not." "Love saved you and gave you power through that scar," said Snape, slowly and evenly, "but it also has the potential to destroy you and the ones you love even when your love is ‘true’ as you would say." Harry stared at the Death Eater. "You think I shouldn't love?" Fat chance. He'd end up ugly, alone, and miserable like Snape. "No, of course not." Snape shook his head. "Just imagine if, in order to destroy the Dark Lord, you'd be required to sacrifice one of your loved ones. Take Miss Granger, for example. If she told you that she needed to sacrifice her life in order that the Dark Lord would be destroyed and the war brought to an end, you would try to stop her, correct?" "Of course I would! I'd do everything! There would have to be some other way to stop him." "And your reluctance would damn countless other individuals, including your remaining friends," Snape roughly pointed out. "Your love for her would cause you to fail, and the result would be evil." "That's not going to happen." Harry looked sharply at Snape. "Is it?" "Perhaps." Snape walked out of sight. Harry stared at his food. Snape was just talking in the hypothetical, right? He didn’t have Hermione, did he? He shook himself and then dug into his beef stew. Snape was just trying to annoy him. After he finished his meal, Harry finished _Hunchback_. He found the whole thing very depressing and wondered if Snape was wrong and the message was ‘Don’t love - it will only get you hurt.’ He fell asleep soon after he went to bed 

~

Harry dreamt that Ginny had surrendered to the Death Eaters and joined him in his cell. She ate breakfast with him and then they took a shower together. Snape insisted on watching and Ginny stripped naked eagerly. She climbed in the tub and pulled in Harry after her. Harry found himself naked as well.

She whispered, "Let's have sex in front of Snape," in his ear and his cock twitched eagerly in excitement. 

"Let's," he agreed and caressed her small breasts. She moaned and rubbed against him and kissed his chest. 

"Harry, I want you," she pleaded as he rubbed his dick against her soft stomach.

"Kiss me like Draco did," he insisted and she did, her tongue invading his mouth. She pushed him back hard and he was in a bed and she climbed on top of him as Draco had done. Snape sat on a chair in the corner of the room, his forearms bare. He turned a page in the book he was reading, ignoring the naked teens before him.

Ginny grinded against him, rubbing her pussy against his cock and he moaned and thrust desperately up. She held him down and gave him electric kisses along his neck.

"Rub her breasts, you fool," Snape said him. And Harry did so, "Like this, sir?"

"Much better," said Snape and Ginny together. 

He rolled over, dragging Ginny underneath him. He humped her stomach, his cock trapped between their bodies. Ginny writhed and yelled at him to go ‘faster, harder, more, more, MORE-’

Harry woke up as he orgasmed. When he calmed, down he realised he had humped his bed to climax. He undid the drawstrings of his bottoms and stared at the sticky mess he had made. Snape would know what he had done. Snape had been in his sex dream! He groaned. Just his luck, not only had his least favourite teacher invaded his life but he was taking over his fantasies as well. No more sex dreams with Snape he resolved. Harry muttered, "Sex and Snape do not belong in the same sentence," into his pillow. 

"What was that, Potter?" Snape's voice carried over from the hallway.

Harry buried his face. Maybe suicide wasn't such a bad option after all....

"Are you hurt, Potter?" Snape paused by the table.

Harry slowly lifted his flaming face, avoiding Snape's eyes. "No, no, I’m fine. I just, um, I was thinking that I should wash my clothes. Got any soap for them?"

"I will take care of it, just give them to me."

"I'd rather do it myself," insisted Harry. 

"I am quite certain you would end up making a mess. I'll wash them while you are taking your bath if your nudity concerns you," offered Snape.

Realising he wasn’t going to get out of this one Harry nodded. "Okay, but I'd like a bath now, before breakfast."

"Very well." Snape stepped back outside the bars. Harry took off his shirt and tucked it under his arms. Snape chained him and they walked to the bathroom together. Harry elected for a bath this time, slipping out of his bottoms, and jumping in the tub as quickly as he could. He was very glad that Snape gave him bubble baths since he hated being naked in front of Snape, even though he had been fully exposed to the Death Eaters many times before. 

Snape paid no attention to Harry's hurried attempts to keep himself covered. He calmly collected Harry's clothes and floated them away, presumably to give to the house-elves. 

Being in the tub again reminded Harry of his dream and his face grew heated as he hardened again. The part with Ginny had been very hot. That was the furthest they had come to having sex in his dreams or in reality. The way Ginny had taken charge had really gotten him going and Harry’s cock stubbornly called his attention as his mind kept drifting to the way Ginny had smelled, felt, tasted.... He focused on cleaning himself as he tried to calm down but it was very difficult to do as just being in the room interested his traitorous anatomy. Maybe he could get a quick one off before Snape returned?

He reached down through the bubbles and wrapped his fingers around his hardness. Wanking himself quickly, his hand moving as if possessed, he turned his thoughts to the dream. He was just about to blow his load when Snape walked back into the bathroom. Desperately moving to cover himself, Harry overcorrected so that he wouldn't get caught wanking, and ended up falling face first in his tub. Scared that Snape would try to help him up, he quickly jerked his head up out of the water. "I'm fine! I'm fine!"

Snape just stared at him. Harry had the feeling if he could see Snape's eyes, the Death Eater would be looking at him as if he had just turned purple.

"Err . . . I was just . . . rinsing my hair. Um . . . could you hand me a towel, please?"

Snape wordlessly did as he asked. Harry used it to hide his hard-on from Snape and delicately walked back to his room. Snape followed and Harry desperately wished for him to hurry up and leave. Unfortunately, Snape seemed to move in slow motion as he levitated Harry's clothes to rest on the bed and tapped the table to make breakfast appear. As Harry grit his teeth, Snape tucked his wand back in his robes. 

"You've been acting strangely all morning." Snape paused by the table, watching Harry suspiciously.

Harry bit out, "I'm fine." He screamed in his head at Snape, ‘ _Just leave! Just leave!_ ’ 

Finally, Snape stepped out, heading back towards the bathroom. Harry dropped his towel and ran over to the toilet bowl. He leant forward, pressing his left hand against the top of the toilet's lid while he worked his right hand over his prick as if he was trying to start a fire. 

"Oh, fuck!!" He came nearly instantly, his cock jerking in his hand as he painted the toilet water with white strings. He released himself and gasped for breath, clutching the top of the toilet until he had calmed himself. As he straightened, he thought he saw a smear of black disappear to the left side of his cell. Harry's heart skipped a beat as he realised there was no reason for Snape to stay on the right side of his cell. He’d been watching the freak. Scowling, Harry flushed the toilet. He refused to be embarrassed anymore. He was a healthy teenaged boy with ordinary needs. His hard-on gone, he used the toilet properly, washed his hands and then ate a delicious breakfast of fresh waffles, sausage, and orange juice.

Harry was reading about Icarus when Snape returned.

"I have more work for you to do in my lab," Snape said. Harry got up and plodded to the bars. Being in the lab was far more exciting than being in his cell and as long as Snape didn't yell at him he'd much rather be there than stuck reading. Snape chained him and put the blindfold on him again.

"I know where your lab is, so this blindfold is pointless," Harry informed Snape as he followed him through the library.

"And where do you think it is?" asked Snape.

"It's in a separate building to the right of the throne room," replied Harry confidently. When Snape didn't answer he triumphantly grinned. "I'm right, aren't I?"

Snape said nothing. He removed the blindfold once they reached the lab and placed Harry in the same position as last time. Glancing around eagerly; Harry noticed that the room looked the same, except one of the boiling cauldrons was a bright green instead of a dark red. "More plants?"

"Yes." Snape placed a collection of jars that looked identical to the ones he had given Harry for his last task on the table. Instead of a jar, there was a wooden box this time that contained small orangish brown objects. Harry picked one up and rolled it in his fingers. It felt like a small, hardened cherry. 

"Place three in each jar," ordered Snape before he stepped across the room to work on a boiling pot of brightly glowing blue goo.

"What is it?"

"Seeds from _Aesculus californica_ , a native of California," Snape lectured as he poured colorful liquids from vials into his cauldron. "It is highly poisonous. Even the nectar is toxic. The Native Americans used it to catch fish by throwing leaves from the plant in small bodies of water. The seeds are harmless as long as you don’t ingest them."

"How would that help them catch the fish?" Harry’s fingers worked quickly and he was so used to his sight being poor, that he was able to do most of his work without looking at the jars, estimating the distances by the placement of his fingers.

"It causes a temporary paralysis of their nervous systems." Snape began slowly stirring one of the boiling cauldrons.

"Why the fascination with Californian plants? Are you planning a trip there?"

"Little is known about the properties of plants in the New World. The populations of magic users are far more concentrated here than over there, based on the fact that pure-blooded wizards and witches were loath to leave their families, their world, to travel to an alien and unknown land," explained Snape as he stirred in slow, unhurried strokes. "Just as Muggle scientists are still discovering new species of plants and their unique properties in the New World, there is a tremendous diversity waiting to be explored by the wizarding world, which is considerably less scientifically advanced than the Muggle world."

"How d'you know so much about these things?" Harry finished a row and moved onto the next. 

"I like to research new materials extensively in order to reduce the number of adverse effects. There is nothing more frustrating than spending months thinking you have developed a perfect healing potion only to discover you actually brewed a toxic poison." Snape reduced the flames beneath his cauldron to almost nothing.

"Yeah, I bet that would be annoying," Harry agreed.

Snape put away the vials as Harry completed the last row. He waited impatiently while Snape prepared him for their journey back. 

"The stories in that book you gave me are very different than the stories I’ve always heard about those people," said Harry as they walked back to the house. 

"That's because those versions of the myths are almost directly translated from the most famous authors of their time period and culture. Most of the Roman myths in that book are translations of Ovid who is, in my opinion, one of the greatest poets of all time. They are taken from his work, _The Metamorphoses_ , which is also about love, although I think you’d find it far more agreeable than Victor Hugo’s work." Snape stopped once they'd reached a point that Harry imagined to be right outside his cell. When Snape took off the blindfold, he found that he was exactly where he'd imagined he'd be. 

Walking into his cell, Harry dropped down onto the bed. "Just as long as they don't all die." 

Snape chuckled and it was so startling that Harry thought he was coughing for a moment. 

"There is death but not to the extent that was present in Mr. Hugo's tome."

"His what?" Harry frowned.

Snape sighed. "His book, Mr. Potter." He conjured food, removed the chain, then left.

This time there was salmon in a white sauce with all sorts of strange herbs and spices. It was quite good and Harry finished it off, along with the potatoes and jelly that were served along with it. There was pumpkin juice again but Harry was getting a bit sick of it, so he just drank the water. 

After he finished his meal he stretched out on his bed and read his mythology book. It was strange to read some of the stories because of how different they were then the ones he had been told in primary school. He had always heard of Hercules as a hero but the Hercules in this book was a jerk. He raped women, killed innocent people apparently at random, and seemed more like a jock than a hero. It was strange to think that the Romans and Greeks would regard such an . . . arsehole highly but Harry supposed they were more practical about who they worshipped in those days. 

Harry was also startled by the fact that Hercules had both male and female lovers. The male lovers were mentioned in the text just as casually as the female ones, suggesting that the people didn't think much of it. Was Hercules gay or straight? Harry couldn't figure it out. He also found it odd that such a masculine man like Hercules would be portrayed as interested in blokes. The Dursleys had looked down on gays and said that they were perverted men who acted like women. Dudley had often accused Harry of being gay, equating it with femininity. 

Harry searched through the book for other mentions of men who had relations with other men or boys and found plenty. Several of the ‘biggest’ gods had male lovers including Zeus and Apollo. It left him confused. He wished Hermione was with him so he could ask her about it.

He closed his book and went to sleep.

~

Harry woke without remembering his dream. He sprawled out on the bed lazily, then returned to his book. He reread the story of Orpheus which he had glanced at the previous night in his quest to find stories of males who had sex with other males. Orpheus had a strange story. Unlike the other characters who seemed to be indiscriminate about whom they chose for a sex partner, it was said that Orpheus turned to boys after losing his wife to death twice. He couldn't imagine suddenly having sex with blokes if Ginny died, but the author wrote about it as if it were perfectly natural.

Harry was making face while reading about Orpheus’ violent death at the hands of a group of rabid women when Snape arrived.

"Why are you grimacing at the book?" he asked as he stepped into Harry's cell.

"It was a strange story. This guy's wife dies, but he is such a good musician that they allow him to get her back. So he goes in the underworld and they tell him not to look back, but he does and she has to stay dead. Then, he decides to stop having sex with women and have it with blokes and is torn apart by a bunch of crazy women. I can't believe this kind of stuff was normal to them."

"Orpheus." Snape nodded, seemingly nonplussed by anything in the story. 

Harry peered at him. It felt odd to be talking about this with Snape but if anyone would know it, he would. "Don't you think it's strange that losing his wife turned him gay?"

"Bisexuality was fairly common among the Greeks and Romans," explained Snape.

"Bi what?" Harry frowned.

"Bisexuality, when a person is sexually attracted to both males and females. If you'll read further in that book, you will discover that it wasn't uncommon for men to take both women and boys as lovers. Generally, older males paired up with younger boys, but it wasn't unheard of for adult males to be intimate with each other." Snape sat down in the chair on the other side of the table.

"So the boy acted like a woman?"

"No, not at all. In fact, males who only were involved with other males were sometimes thought to be the most masculine types of men because they completely eschewed women."

"Is that why Hercules did that?"

The line between Snape's eyebrows deepened. "I don't think he was involved with boys to prove his masculinity if that is what you are asking. I think he was with them simply because he enjoyed them from time to time."

"Oh." He stood. "I'm ready for my bath."

Snape stood up as well. Harry was so used to the routine he did it without thinking. It was a good thing having erotic dreams about other boys didn't make him gay. He tried to imagine living in a culture where being bisexual was the norm. How would dances work? Did girls sleep with other girls like blokes did with blokes? He thought of Ginny lying naked with another girl, and his cock twitched in excitement. 

On his way back to the room he thought of something else. "If Hercules was a hero then why did he do so many horrible things? Did they not think rape was a bad thing back then?"

"No, people were just more pragmatic. They saw the darker side of life with a greater intensity than most people do today. Many of them fought in wars themselves and everyone knew at least one person who had. Often in war you have to kill or be killed. People who tried to always do right didn't last very long. It is suicidal to be in any significant conflict and always do what is morally correct." Snape tapped the table to conjure breakfast. "Furthermore, heroes who are perfect are useless. They are an unobtainable ideal without practical application. The wizarding world proclaims you as its grand hero and expects you to live up to that chimeric mirage."

Snape stood up and leaned across the table so that his face was clearer to Harry's vision. His eyes were intense: black and glittering although not with anger but with something else Harry had never seen before. "And if you believe that is what you must be then you will lose. In order for you to survive this war you must use Unforgivables and you must find them justified. Any shirking, any attempt to be the ‘perfect hero’ will result in destruction."

With that grim pronouncement hanging in the air, Snape swept out of the cell. 

Harry ate without paying attention to the food he was putting in his mouth. The way Snape had spoken almost seemed to imply that he wanted Harry to win but Harry knew that was impossible. Snape was as evil as Voldemort. Then again, while Snape wasn't outright helping Harry, he was certainly not being nearly as bad as any of the other Death Eaters would've been. In fact, he had been nice to Harry in a few small ways. He didn't even insist that Harry call him ‘sir’ like he did in the classroom. If Harry had been told that he would end up Snape's captive a year ago he would've thought that the Death Eater would’ve made his life as miserable as possible. It was strange, Snape had been a normal git near the beginning, but lately he had almost been tolerable to have around. 

Harry finished his meal and then returned to his bed to read.

Normally, the myth book was a distraction but this time, the stories he came across just depressed him further. He needed to hunt down the Horcruxes, but instead he was stuck in a prison. While things hadn't been going wonderfully with his two best friends, they had done pretty well for a couple of teenagers who hadn't been given too many clues. He remembered Ron's return, the acquisition of the Sword of Gryffindor, and the legend of the Deathly Hallows. He tried to make his jumbled mind remember what exactly had happened before he woke up in the cell, but he wasn't sure. 

How had he ended up here? He had no idea if Ron and Hermione were even still alive and only assumed they were based on the fact that no Death Eater had tried to hurt him by mentioning their deaths. He felt sure that they wouldn't kill off his two best friends and not brag to him about it. His inability to not know what was happening to his friends was the most frustrating part about being held prisoner. He'd take twice as much torture, even torture from Malfoy, if it meant that he'd learn if Ron and Hermione were doing well. The Death Eaters probably didn't know however, so there was no point in trying to strike a bargain. Snape would probably know if Ron and Hermione were killed, but Harry worried he might lie and claim their deaths just to be cruel to Harry. 

Harry kept waiting for him to return to his true nature. Snape's calmness and lack of insults unhinged him. He felt as though the Death Eater was storing up all his evilness to unleash upon him just when he'd become complacent. Harry didn't trust him and hadn't relaxed his guard for one second. He had decided to play along with Snape's game and pretend that he didn't spend every waking moment wanting to kill the Death Eater, but if his magic and wand were returned to him, he knew exactly what he'd do. At least Snape was here and away from Ginny and Harry's other friends. He couldn't kill anymore of Harry's loved ones while he was stuck in here as well. 

He needed to escape! Had he told Ron and Hermione what the Hufflepuff cup looked like? Had he mentioned Nagini to them? The fact that one of the Horcruxes was thought to have belonged to Ravenclaw? He couldn't remember exactly what he'd said and what he hadn't. Voldemort was right - Dumbledore had been a fool to place the entire hopes of the wizarding world on three young teenagers who hadn’t even completed their last year of school. His only hope was that whoever sent the deer Patronus would continue to help his best friends. 

If only he had his magic! He would send his Patronus to Ron and Hermione as the Order did. Why hadn't any of them sent theirs to him? Was the prison so heavily guarded that not even a Patronus could get in, or did they all think him dead? That was a depressing thought. If they thought he was dead, then he could be stuck here forever if he was the only one who could defeat Voldemort. Forever imprisoned to be tortured like clockwork.... If he didn't get out soon, he'd never survive.


	8. Chapter 8

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

Snape strode into the hallway while Harry was contemplating how long it would take before he would break like the Longbottoms. It would surely happen eventually. He'd end up in Saint Mungo's, and everyone would say, "What a fool Dumbledore had been to rest everything on the shoulders of Harry Potter." "Why do you have such an expression on your face?" Snape asked as he spelled food on the table, snapping Harry out of his depressive reverie. "I feel like Syphilis," he said as he turned his head to look at Snape, remaining curled up on the far corner of his bed with his knees beneath his chin. His stomach was too miserable for him to even think about eating right now. Snape’s eyebrows almost leapt off his face. "Excuse me?" "That guy who had to push a stone up a mountain every day only to have it roll back down after it got to the top," Harry reminded him. "Sisyphus." "Yeah, him." Harry nodded morosely. "He had to do it and every time he knew it was going to be painful, but he had no choice." He untucked his legs. "It feels the same when I have to go get tortured. I know what's coming, but there is nothing I can do to stop it." The admission only made him feel worse and he hung his head. He heard Snape leave and that bothered him although he couldn't explain why. He hadn't expected Snape to comfort him after all.... Snape strode back in and stepped through the bars. He thrust something into Harry’s hands. A book. Along the spine it read "Albert Camus: Collected Works." It seemed to be about as old as his myth book. Harry was getting sick of books. "I don’t want-" Harry began when Snape cut him off. "There is an essay in here about that myth. Read it." Snape left. Harry sighed, but opened the book. It wasn't like he had anything better to do. Snape returned shortly after Harry finished. Harry had thrown the book at the wall and didn’t feel any better than before, although now anger overrode his depression. "I don't get it!" he complained. "He used so many words I didn't understand and said that Sisyphus should be happy! How can he be happy about being tortured? He's mad! I'm never going to be happy about being hurt!" How could Snape ever think he would even be fine with torture? Snape stepped into the cell and calmly picked up the book from the floor. He smoothed out the cover as he spoke. "You've misunderstood-" "Yeah, yeah," Harry cut him off angrily. "I'm stupid. I know. Now you are going to tell me how stupid I am and how my dad was stupid, my mum was stupid, my whole family was stupid. And you hated-" "Your mother was not stupid." Snape spoke softly, almost so quietly that Harry didn't hear. "What?" Harry blinked. Snape stared at the book in his hands. "Your mother was a highly intelligent and gifted witch. It was she who nurtured my love of the classics. I was certainly never exposed to them at home or at school." Harry stared at Snape, completely blown away. Snape hated Harry's parents! He was always complaining about how much Harry was like James. And Snape called Lily ‘Mudblood’! There had been no love lost between them in the memory Harry had seen. Harry suspected Snape was lying, but why he would lie about that Harry couldn't say. Snape sat down in the chair on the other end of the table. "In fact," he continued, "I've come to believe that Hogwarts is in desperate need of courses that are chiefly concerned with the classics and logic. Wizards are taught to do, but not to think." "’Most wizards don't have an ounce of logic.’" Harry quoted. When he saw Snape's eyebrows move in a quizzical expression he clarified, "That's what Hermione said when we got to your logic puzzle with the potions while trying to save the Stone. She said that most wizards would have been unable to get past it because they don't know that kind of stuff." "Miss Granger was correct." Snape nodded. "Rhetoric and action have always held far more sway in the wizarding world than reason. Compared to the Muggles, there is frightening little interest in critical thinking and scientific exploration in our world. What is magic? How does it work? What causes people to be born with the ability to use it? It is obviously tied to genetics, but other than that, no one knows. The reason there are no wizarding universities is because very few wizards care to think about these issues, much less try to solve them. Creating potions and spells is rather easy - I made several of both during my years at Hogwarts through a simple knowledge of the fundamentals of magic and application of logic. Yet, very few wizards ever use anything beyond what they are taught in school, which isn't much and has not changed for hundreds of years." Snape continued, "I am told that the Muggles change their science books every five years to keep up with discoveries and that some books are out of date the minute they go to press. The Muggle world is full of creativity and a desire to push the current bounds of knowledge out beyond their limits, yet our world clings to tradition. The potions book you used last year was fifty years old, yet still current because no real advancements have been made in potions for the last hundred years or so." Snape spread his fingers out on the table. Harry was so fascinated by his speech that he did not interrupt. "I think that the student populace is purposefully kept in the dark on these issues so that they may be controlled. Knowledge is power, after all, and an uneducated population is much easier to manipulate. The Ministry and those in charge fear educating students on logic and independent thought because Muggle-raised wizards who do not lose this thirst for knowledge can become the most powerful of our kind." Harry wondered aloud, "Is that why Voldemort was able to take over?" "Yes," Snape confirmed, "and why he will never be destroyed using conventional methods." He stood. "Now, we have work to do." Harry got to his feet and allowed Snape to take him to the lab. This time, he was given beautiful purple flowers. " _Solanum wallacei_ or Catalina nightshade," Snape lectured, "is only found on the islands off the California coast. They are very rare and very expensive." He put a pair of tweezers down by Harry. "You will pluck the petals, placing one in each jar. Try to remove each petal fully intact and do not put torn ones in the jars." Harry grumbled to himself, but did as he was told. It was better than being locked in his cell and forced to read. He had to bend close to the table to be able to see what he was working on clearly. He was so engrossed in his task, trying to pull off each petal perfectly that he almost didn’t hear the footsteps behind him and when he recognized the clomp of a boot from a few steps behind him, he swiveled around to see Lucius. Harry quickly turned back to his work, his body aching as he remembered how the Death Eater had tortured him. Voldemort wasn't here, was he? "What is _he_ doing here?" Malfoy sneered. "And you've given him clothes?" Calmly, Snape continued stirring his potion. "I decided to put him to work. I observe him the entire time he is in here and he is never allowed to touch anything of importance." "The Dark Lord will hear of this, Severus," Malfoy told Snape in an ominous tone. He sounded a bit gleeful, as if tattling on Snape would give him no greater pleasure. Snape did not pause in his stirring, seemingly nonchalant about the whole affair. "Are you threatening me, Lucius?" he asked quietly. Harry knew from experience that Snape was far more dangerous when his voice became soft and silky like that. "No, merely informing. However, I would not be surprised if he deigns to give the boy to a more worthy master." Malfoy ran his finger down Harry's spine. Harry jumped and moved as far away from him as he could. Stiff fingers grabbed Harry’s neck, squeezing lightly. Harry froze, his heart slamming in his chest. With perverse almost-affection to his tone, Malfoy purred, "I look forward to seeing you again, boy." He stroked Harry’s left cheek with one gloved finger. "I have something special planned for you." Harry was about to attack him when Snape spoke in a cool voice. "If you are finished, Lucius, I'll have to ask you to leave." Malfoy's robes swirled around him as he marched out of the lab. Harry made sure he was gone, then attacked a flower as he tried to force thoughts of Malfoy from his mind. Anger burnt up in him, swiftly erupting to the surface and overriding the fear he had felt moments before. Malfoy acted as if Harry existed just to be used by him. Harry would show him differently. He'd wipe that smirk right off his face. Although he had no idea how he would, he promised himself that he’d take his revenge on Malfoy. When Harry had placed a petal in every jar, Snape returned him to his cell. Harry took measured steps and memorised the count of each room so that he could try to estimate distances once he was returned to his cell. He would escape from this prison, even if he had to do it entirely on his own. Snape removed the blindfold and chains once Harry had stepped through the bars, leaving shortly after. Harry noticed his Camus book on the table and picked it up. He reread it, but he still didn't understand what the author was getting at. He couldn't imagine Sisyphus being happy. When Snape came by to give Harry dinner, Harry asked him a question that had been burning at him all day. "So what was he saying?" He sat up on his bed. "Malfoy?" asked Snape in confusion. "Camus." Harry at waved the book. "I reread it and I still don’t understand it." "Ah." Snape summoned food and then sat in the other chair. "Camus believed very strongly in choice just as Victor Hugo did. You will remember from _The Hunchback_ that Frollo felt as though he were trapped by fate and helpless to do anything but what was predestined for him." "Yeah." Harry approached and took his chair as he looked over his meal. It was the thick chicken stew over rice. "He was wrong and his failure to see himself as an active participant in his own destiny resulted in his tragic end," Snape explained. "Camus believed that individuals are always free to choose." "How can Sisyphus be free? He was condemned to forever push the rock." "Think of it like death, Potter. We must all die eventually, and because of this, Camus believed that ultimately, everything we do is futile. He saw Sisyphus’ situation as a metaphor for life. We cannot choose to avoid death but we can choose how we live our lives. Sisyphus chose to accept his fate." Harry frowned. He didn't see how forever pushing a rock up a mountain could be compared to life in general. Yeah, he felt that way now, but most people weren't stuck in prisons, waiting to be tortured by the individuals responsible for the deaths of their friends and loved ones. Life before this had been rather good, even with all that he had been through. "Most individuals would imagine that the worst time for Sisyphus is when he descends the mountain. As you said, he is in full awareness of what is in store for him, and is powerless to stop it unless he commits suicide. He has no hope nor holds any faith that a higher power will rescue him. He has no illusions, just a recognition of what is to come. Camus argues that is precisely why Sisyphus is happy. When he can accept his fate for what it is, only then will he be able to rise above it. What's more, Camus believes that we must accept that Sisyphus is happy in order for happiness to be real." Harry blinked. "Why?" "Camus believed that hope and faith were methods of avoidance and therefore illusions. If happiness exists only when we depart from reality, then it is a form of denial and no one can be said to be truly happy. If Sisyphus can be happy _based_ on his situation and not on the _avoidance_ of it - if he can be happy knowing full well that he has no escape from his pain and suffering, then genuine happiness is possible for all of us." Harry chewed that over. "I don't agree with him, but I think I see what he's saying now." Snape stood up. "I differ from Camus on many points but you must admit that it makes Sisyphus' story less depressing." He left. Harry finished his meal and lay on the bed thinking of Sisyphus and Camus. Hope was what he clung to; hope was what kept him alive and fighting. He couldn't imagine facing his current situation without hope for release from it or faith in his friends. If he didn't believe that he'd find a way out of this prison, then he would've given up long ago. How could a person live without any hope for better things to come? Especially a person like Sisyphus, who had been forced into a torture that would probably break anyone if given enough time. Was Snape trying to make Harry give up? It was such an insidious way to do it but Snape was devious enough to attempt such a ploy. He was obviously trying to lull Harry into a false sense of security. Harry wasn't going to fall for it. He refused to give up on his friends and to accept his current situation as the status quo. He would cling tightly to his hope for release and do everything in his power to make sure he escaped and returned to the task Dumbledore had entrusted to him. Dumbledore wouldn't have given any tasks to Harry that couldn't be accomplished. Feeling confident in his ability to overcome Snape's mind games, Harry read his myth book until he fell asleep. 

~

"Potter!" barked Snape. "Strip, now!"

Harry sat up wondering what the hell had crawled up Snape's arse. He guessed it was time to be tortured, but there was no need for Snape to be an absolute git. 

Snape bound Harry's hands as soon he'd undressed himself, and then marched him up to the throne room. Harry stumbled after him in a state of sleep. As soon as his foot hit the cool marble of the throne room floor, his brain woke up and he glanced at the dais to see Voldemort, Lucius, and Avery were already there. Harry sank to his knees in the middle of the room before Snape cast the spell on him so that Snape's magic wouldn't cause his legs to bang against the floor. Snape rarely fed him on nights he was to be tortured. Based on how poorly rested he felt, he suspected he'd only been sleeping a short while before he was roused. This visit was probably as unexpected to Snape as it was to him. 

"Severus." Voldemort's voice filled the room. "Lucius tells me that you treat the slave as a pet and allow him in your lab."

Snape fell to his knees in front of his master. "I allowed him in my lab, my Lord. I decided to work the slave rather than let him sleep all day."

"Without asking me?" Voldemort hissed, " _Crucio_!" Snape fell to the floor in pain.

While Harry thought Snape did deserved to be Crucio’d, seeing him under the spell made his body ache as he remembered how it had been done to him. He turned away and let his gaze drift over the faces of the other Death Eaters. Malfoy had a triumphant look on his pale face as he eagerly watched Snape writhe. Avery stared directly at Harry with an expression on his face Harry had never seen before but didn't like. Harry suddenly realised then that he would be far more protected with Snape than with any other Death Eater. Snape's position as his guard was tenuous, and he could be given to any other Death Eater at any moment. 

He made his decision the same way he made all the important ones: on instinct. He threw himself on the ground in front of Voldemort and begged, "Please! I didn't want to, but he made me!" Voldemort stopped torturing Snape and all the Death Eaters turned their heads to stare at Harry. He could feel Snape's eyes drilling into his back, but he played his part. "Please, don't hurt me," he begged as meekly as he could. "He forced me to go there and help him make poisons to kill my friends!" Quidditch was often thought to be Harry's greatest talent, but it was actually lying on the spot.

" _Crucio_!" Voldemort cast and Harry screamed and writhed on the floor. It was stronger than Bellatrix’s, but Voldemort cut it off after a short while. Harry focused on Malfoy’s earlier visit and the fear he had felt then. Voldemort was speaking but Harry was too lost in his thoughts, trying to organise them, to hear what he was saying. Suddenly, Voldemort pushed into his mind and he focused entirely on his memory of being in the lab earlier that day. He tightly locked away the other memories of the lab and Snape's conversations with him, and filled his mind with the fear and anger Malfoy had instilled in him earlier. Voldemort retreated and Harry collapsed on the floor, panting.

"You have nothing to fear, Lucius." Voldemort assured his minion. "Today was the first time the slave visited the lab and he certainly did not enjoy the visit."

Harry couldn't believe his ears. He did it! He had successfully blocked Voldemort! He wanted to scream out his accomplishment, but he forced himself to maintain a fearful expression.

"Still," Voldemort was speaking to Snape, "You should have known better than to make such a change without informing me first."

"Yes, my Lord." Snape's head was nearly on the floor. "I'm sorry, my Lord."

"Avery, take the slave away. _Crucio_!" Voldemort cast on Snape. Avery grabbed Harry by his chain and yanked him out of the room while Snape writhed on the floor behind him, still refusing to scream despite the intense amount of pain in which he must have been.

Harry allowed Avery to drag him from the room. His first success at Occlumency! When they reached Harry's cell, Harry tried to step through the bars, but Avery pushed the chain into the wall above Harry's head, pinning him against the wall. Avery pressed his body into the left side of Harry's and ran his right hand up Harry's torso slowly. The touch of his hand made Harry's skin crawl.

"I hope I get you next, boy," he hissed in Harry's ear as Harry struggled, trying to push him away. Avery grabbed his right nipple and twisted it painfully. "I'm going to fuck you," he continued, squeezing the small nub while Harry bit his lip to keep from crying out. "Have you ever taken a cock before?" He released Harry’s nipple and his hand inched slowly down towards Harry's groin. "I'll teach you to suck my cock just the way I like it."

Harry screamed, "Get off of me!" and flailed wildly. Avery laughed but threw him into his cell. Harry scrambled to get as far away from Avery as possible, moving to the far corner of his bed. He grabbed up his sheet and covered himself. 

Avery left with a wave and Harry shook with anger and disgust. If Avery tried to touch him again he'd bite his dick off! They wouldn't let Avery rape him, would they?

Harry stayed up waiting for Snape but after several hours, Harry finally fell into a fitful sleep, not knowing who he'd wake up to find as his guard.

~

Snape woke Harry when he walked into the hallway.

"Good morning." Harry smiled and sat up, quite proud of himself for what he had managed to do the night before. Snape apparently wasn’t.

"You little fool," Snape hissed as he stormed over and yanked Harry out of bed by his upper arm. 

Harry blinked in surprise as Snape asked, "Do you have a brain in that thick skull of yours, worthless child? Of all the wizards who act without thinking you have to be the worst!"

"What the hell?" cried Harry, his good mood evaporating as he pushed away from Snape. "He would've tortured you even more if I hadn't intervened!" 

"You are a terrible Occlumens!" yelled Snape.

"I wasn't last night!"

Snape grabbed him again and shook him hard. "Only because you got lucky, you stupid boy! If he had cast while torturing you he would've known in an instant!" 

"I kept him from knowing the truth!"

"Try to stop me from viewing last night!" 

Snape thrust his mind and Harry's thoughts were too scattered to keep him out. He wasn't prepared for it. He finally managed to focus on Bellatrix's torture rather than the previous evening but Snape had already seen parts of last night. How much Harry didn’t know, his mind had been completely unprepared.

"Fuck," Harry gasped as he caught his breath. He had ended up on the ground on his hands and knees. Fuck, he couldn't do it under stress. He couldn't do it when he didn't have time to prepare.

"That's what I thought. You imbecilic-"

"Then train me!" Harry pleaded. "I can learn!"

Snape stepped away from him and tapped the table with his wand. "I doubt it, Potter." His voice dripped with scorn. "Even if you trained to shield your mind every single time you felt pain or were in an emotionally charged situation, you still wouldn’t learn." He swiftly headed out of the cell.

Harry flew at him in anger, but Snape had already passed through the bars and Harry could do nothing against him. "I'll show you, you bastard!"

Harry trudged over to his seat. He ate without thinking of his food. He'd learn to be an Occlumens so good he'd be able to block Voldemort complete. Snape didn't want Harry to learn Occlumency, which is why he had purposely sabotaged the lessons during Harry’s fifth year. He was trying to prevent Harry from learning it now, which Harry desperately needed to do, especially since Voldemort was employing Occlumency against Harry on a full time basis now. 

After he ate, Harry was feeling restless, so he exercised until he couldn't move anymore. He lay on the floor of his cell and thought of his friends. If Hermione was held prisoner by Snape, she'd read his entire library. She would probably request a parchment and quill to take notes. 

Harry sat up. He hadn't given much thought to the particulars of his situation in a while. Why was he being kept prisoner instead of killed? Why did they only hurt him when Voldemort was there? Why didn't his scar hurt anymore? Was it because Voldemort was using Occlumency? Harry was a prisoner and couldn't stop him from doing anything, so why would he feel the need to employ Occlumency? Why was Snape nicer to him than the others? He was turning these questions over in his head when Snape showed up.

"You need a bath." 

"Yeah." Harry got to his feet. "Why hasn’t Voldemort killed me?"

"If you are smart you will figure it out on your own," replied Snape in his annoying way.

"I'm stupid, okay," said Harry irritably as he walked down the hallway. “So tell me.”

Snape tsked at him as he spelled the taps open. "You have all the evidence available to you to figure it out on your own."

Harry climbed into the tub. "Does it have anything to do with why he only hurts me when he's around?"

"Perhaps."

Harry started cleaning himself as he thought about that. "Is it tied to the prophecy?"

"We are not playing twenty questions, Potter."

Harry thought that meant he was close. Time to switch targets. "Why did you join the Death Eaters?"

"Question time is over, Potter."

"It just seems strange that anyone would want to join a group of people who called themselves by that name unless they never pretended to be anything other than bad guys."

"We were originally called the Knights of Walpurgis."

"What does _that_ mean?"

"Back to your cell," commanded Snape. Harry climbed out of the tub and dried himself off. He put on his bottoms and walked back to his prison. Snape followed him and spelled food on the table.

"Voldemort still formed them though, right? He didn't take over a group that was already there, did he?"

"Don't make me lock you in the cupboard again." Snape warned as he left.

Harry ate his pork chops and applesauce while he read about Hermaphroditus. The mental picture of bathing in a natural pool while an aggressive girl tried to force him into sex reminded him of the dream he’d had with Ginny. There was a considerable tent in his bottoms by the time he finished and as soon as he ate the last bit of his meal, he headed over to his bed.

He undid his drawstring and wiggled his way out of his bottoms. Tossing them to the side he gazed upon his cock, which was pointing proudly up towards his face. He unsheathed the head with the fingers of his right hand, pulling down the foreskin to reveal the smooth, pink skin. Wrapping his right hand around his twitching length, he teased the sensitive glans. He imagined that Ginny was here and touching him. She'd push him back on the bed and curl her fingers around his prick. The thought of her being so forward always got him achingly hard and it wasn't long before his fingers were coated with enough precum for him to grip his shaft in his left hand and slowly fist himself.

He rarely masturbated with his left hand and every time he did, it was almost like another hand held his cock. "Yes . . . yes....." He fucked his hand faster as he felt the familiar tightening sensation in his groin. Ginny would tighten her fingers around his cock just like that and she would know to flick her wrist like this and she would lean close and say, "I'll give you what you want." And he would come and he did, his seed spurting as he cried out in pleasure, the sticky strands falling on his chest and stomach. 

Harry released his still-twitching prick and fell back against the bed, panting with pleasure. He lay there for a while until his limbs stopped shaking and he had his breath again. He got up to fetch tissues and clean himself off. As he drifted off to sleep, he tried not to think about how Ginny had sounded a bit like Snape at the end.


	9. Chapter 9

  
Author's notes: Harry’s hunting for the Horcruxes when he is captured by the Death Eaters and held as a prisoner/slave. Snape is positioned as his prison guard.  


* * *

When Snape woke Harry up in the morning for breakfast, Harry had more questions for him.

"Why doesn't my scar hurt anymore?"

Snape tapped the table with his wand. "You haven't been in the cupboard for a while now...."

"You are so hypocritical, you know." Harry crossed his arms, determined to win this one. "You say that Hogwarts is a bad school because people are taught to do and not think and that the wizarding world needs more people who question ‘why’ and ‘how’ and stuff. Yet whenever I question you about things, you tell me to shut up or threaten me."

Snape stared at him for a moment. "I think that's the most intelligent thing you've ever said, Potter. I didn't know you had it in you."

Harry beamed. Who would have thought Snape could give _compliments_.

"Unfortunately, you are still wrong in your assessment. I'll upgrade your IQ by a few points to slightly above your age, but you are still well below average. Figure out why I am not hypocritical and I will reconsider your IQ, perhaps raising it close to normal."

Harry scowled at the disappearing smudge of black. "I'm going to hex you blind when I get out!"

Harry thought about his questions as he ate his meal - a delicious roast with mashed potatoes. An amazing gravy had been dribbled over both and he couldn’t get enough of it, slowly licking it off his spoon after he ate each bite. Maybe Voldemort had ordered Snape not to tell Harry things. Snape never disobeyed his master, and Harry didn't doubt that if Voldemort had ordered Harry killed, Snape would have done so himself. Snape loved giving lectures and telling Harry how stupid he was, but if Voldemort had told Snape not to tell Harry about certain things, then Snape wouldn't.

Harry felt confident that the reason his scar didn't hurt anymore was because Voldemort was employing Occlumency against him. But why? Why hadn't he done it earlier when Harry had been on the run? It didn't make sense to defend oneself strongly against a prisoner but not against a wizard determined to destroy you. By the time Snape returned, Harry was sure Voldemort was hiding something important. He didn't badger Snape with questions as the Death Eater remained outside the bars and said, "Time for your bath."

"I want to go to your lab again." Harry took off his shirt, walked over and stuck his hands through the bars. 

"So you can make more poisons for me to use on your friends?" Snape stepped back and the bars opened.

"It's better than hanging out in here reading books." Harry passed through.

"You've been remarkably . . . resilient." Snape spoke in a hesitant manner as if it were painful to say something to Harry that might be interpreted as a compliment.

"I don't think so." Harry frowned as he settled in the tub and started his bath. "I let Malfoy and Avery get to me."

"Avery?" Snape asked.

"Yeah." Harry was unwilling to explain further. "Malfoy didn’t even have to touch me, and I was scared of him although I don't know why. I hate that. I should be stronger than that. I asked him for those needles, I didn't hold out."

There was a long pause before Snape said, "I'm sure Lucius saw that as a sign of your submission, but in a way you had authority. You appraised the situation, calculated that it would be less arduous to expedite the process, and made a conscious decision to choose an option you viewed as less deleterious in a time of crisis."

"I didn't understand half of that." Harry scrubbed his chest.

Snape sighed. "You made a deliberate choice and your ability to do so gave you power." He moved away from his spot on the wall to stand closer to the towel rack. "I've seen other prisoners break after a week in the cupboard. You are the only one who has emerged smiling."

"That's just because I was used to it," said Harry dismissively, but it made him think. Snape never gave compliments but it sounded as though he were saying that Harry had been pretty brave. Harry didn't feel brave. If he had been, he would've kicked Malfoy in the nuts. 

Snape seemed to read his thoughts because he added. "You don't really give up control if you do it willingly. Sometimes submitting takes far more courage and bravery than resistance."

"I'm not giving up." Harry glared at him.

Snape pulled a towel off the rack and dropped it on Harry's head. "I didn't ask that of you."

Harry stood up and climbed out of the tub as he dried himself off. Snape remained near the rack and when Harry stood on the rug he was so close to Snape he could've elbowed him. Snape smelled like his lab, a musky scent of earth and herbs. Harry pulled on his bottoms and headed back towards his cell. 

"If you didn't, then why did you bring it up?" asked Harry.

"I was speaking of something else, Potter." Snape opened the bars for Harry and he stepped through. "If you openly show defiance, it will only result in more torture. If you pretend to submit, you can appease their need for dominance and save yourself pain. Think of how tall trees bend in the wind. If they tried to stay rigid, they would break after a single gale. By allowing the wind to bend them, they can sometimes withstand hurricanes."

"But that's giving them what they want," Harry protested, although what Snape said did make sense in a way.

"Then you will be broken," warned Snape as he left.  
Harry picked up his myth book and lay on the bed. Snape had said ‘their,’ which seemed to imply that he didn't think of himself as being the same as the other Death Eaters. That didn't jibe with how Snape always acted around Voldemort and how he spoke of him. Snape had threatened Harry many times with pain, which meant that he thought that it was effective in getting Harry to do what he wanted. Was this another mind game? Did Snape want him to pretend to be obedient to the Death Eaters in the hope that the false obedience would cause Harry to eventually fall into real obedience? He needed Ron and Hermione to strategize; Snape played a very confusing game. 

Harry let his questions swirl around in his head for hours, but he was unable to come up with any answers. He grew hungry and wished for Snape to bring him dinner. When the Death Eater didn't show up, he opened his myth book and read to distract himself. He was still reading when someone strode in through the library door. Harry assumed it was Snape and didn't turn around. 

"Reading and wearing clothes," Avery sneered from the other side of the bars, "Severus is spoiling you." Harry whirled around in shock at the Death Eater’s voice, the book falling to the floor.

" _Concretio Ferratilis_!" yelled Avery and Harry’s wrists were jerked back as the chains formed, binding him to the bed posts. He struggled, tugging on them as Avery slipped through the bars and strode over to the side of the bed.

"Leave me alone, you bastard!" hissed Harry as he moved his body as far away from the Death Eater as he possibly could.

Avery snaked one long arm across the bed and grabbed Harry's right ankle as Harry kicked him in the arm, hard. Avery pulled Harry's leg towards him and pinned it under one of his as he reached across the bed for the other one. Harry arched his back and pummeled the Death Eater's side with kicks before Avery finally managed to have both of Harry's legs trapped under his own.

"Your struggles only make me harder." Avery told his prey. To show Harry what he meant, he unzipped himself, revealing a short, but thick, veiny cock with a large, dark-red head. Avery was well built, and when Harry began struggling again, his cock grew even thicker. He pulled out a knife and cut Harry’s shirt off, pinching Harry's nipples cruelly with his fingers.

"STOP IT!! GET OFF ME!" yelled Harry as he tried to twist away from Avery's touch. Avery cut the drawstring of Harry's bottoms and moved back to sit on Harry's calves so he could yank down Harry's bottoms and expose him. He shifted his weight and spread Harry's legs.

Harry shook his head and tried to kick Avery. He stilled only when he felt the blade press into his skin right below his balls, drawing blood. Having the knife against his bullocks, even if it was only the flat side, made him very nervous.

Avery grinned down at Harry with a wolf's smile. "I think I'll cut all this junk off and make myself another hole. I'll fuck you like the bitch you are." He bent down and bit one of Harry's nipples, his teeth tearing skin.

Harry screamed and tried to evade the knife pressing into him.

"Get off of him, Avery." Snape's voice was harsh. Relief stormed through Harry. Never had he been so glad to have Snape as a prison guard. 

Avery reluctantly moved off of Harry and tucked himself back in his trousers. "If our Lord insists that I do it in front of him, then I will do it there." He turned and left the cell.

Snape healed Harry's injuries and then released his bonds.

"Thank you." Harry touched his balls to reassure himself that Avery hadn't cut them off.

"Don't," said Snape sharply as he spelled the chain between Harry's cuffs and pulled him to his feet. "The Dark Lord is waiting." He took Harry’s arm and led him out of his cell.

Harry stumbled after him, too shaken up to say or do anything else. When they reached the top of the stairs, Snape paused in the hallway. Turning to Harry, he gripped his upper arms in his strong hands. He stood quietly for a minute and stared at Harry with an unreadable expression behind his dark eyes.

"Starry very," Snape finally said. 

"What?" Harry blinked in confusion.

"Remember that," Snape commanded in a soft voice, "Starry very."

Harry was about to ask him what the hell he was babbling about when Snape pulled him through the doors to the throne room and threw him in the middle of the floor. Yaxley, Voldemort, and Avery were waiting on the dais. 

"Avery got started without us, my Lord," tattled Snape in a disapproving tone.

"He looked so tasty in the bed," said Avery. "I assure you that I was going to bring him up." He bowed low.

"My Lord, may I ask for a favour?" Snape bowed even lower as if it were some sort of contest.

"A favour, Severus?" asked Voldemort in a voice that clearly expressed his disapproval.

"Yes, my Lord. I regret having angered you, but I understand that your wrath was well deserved. I'd like to make that up to you by taking something for you which I think you will enjoy immensely." Snape said, his head still bowed.

"And what is that?" 

"Harry Potter's virginity."

Harry felt as though a Dementor had suddenly entered the room. He couldn’t breathe as he stared at Snape in horror. How could he? He hadn't saved Harry from Avery; he had just wanted him for himself!

Voldemort laughed, and the horrible cackling sound filled the room and made Harry shake.

"Severus!" Avery hissed. "It is my turn tonight!"

Snape turned on him. "You attempted to do it in private, denying our Lord the pleasure of it. You will also give him your disease and no one else will be able to use him after you!"

"How dare you!" Avery whipped out his wand. "I came to you for a cure in private!"

"Enough!" commanded Voldemort, and Avery reluctantly put away his wand. Harry tightened his fingers into fists. They were fighting over who was going to hurt him! He struggled for his magic, trying to reach it with all his strength. The runes squiggled but held fast, preventing him from even touching it. Never had he felt so hopeless, so powerless. 

"Severus, I am still angry with you for your earlier behaviour." Voldemort stared down at the Death Eater on the floor before him.

"Yes, my Lord, I am sorry, my Lord." Snape lowered his head to the floor again.

"However, Avery just committed an equal sin. And of my servants, you have been the most faithful and have given me the greatest gifts. The only reason I give this gift to you now is because I know that you have never deliberately sought to conceal your behaviour from me as most of my followers have. For your honesty and loyalty, I grant you this reward." Voldemort's words made the ice inside Harry's chest grow even colder and fill him completely. He had known this would happen. Had known Snape was storing up his evil to perform one unspeakable act. Still, even though he had expected it, it hurt so much he almost wanted to cry. He was too stunned to do anything but sit there like a statue as Snape straightened. 

"Thank you, my Lord. I will never forget this, my Lord." Snape stood and walked over to Harry. He took out his wand and summoned a pillow from a nearby couch. He floated it over to the floor before Voldemort and transfigured it into a flat mattress. 

It was the sight of that mattress that flung Harry into action. Jumping to his feet, he turned and ran. Magical ropes wrapped around his ankles, sending him tumbling to the floor, and yanking him back towards Snape. He pulled hard against them, trying to get away. When Snape's hand closed around Harry's upper arm, he yelled, "NO! GET OFF ME!" and kicked as hard as he could.

With surprisingly strong hands, Snape pulled him up and dragged him towards the pillow. He flailed as hard as he could and managed to bite Snape's arm hard enough to tear skin, before he was pushed face down into the transfigured pillow. 

Snape pressed a hand down on his back to hold him in place as Harry flailed and screamed. Snape muttered a spell and bonds wrapped around his ankles, spreading them apart while another pair worked their way around his upper thighs and pulled him up on his knees. A cloth wrapped around his neck and Snape yanked hard on it, forcing Harry up on his hands to avoid being choked. With his head forced up, he saw Voldemort watching him with a triumphant smile on his reptilian face. Not wanting to see his triumph, Harry screwed his eyes shut tightly. He struggled against his bonds, but he was held in place, unable to move more than a few inches.

A tingling sensation work its way through his rectum, followed by the feel of something wet splashing through his arse. Something spongy yet firm pressed between his buttocks and he realised with panic that it was Snape's cock. _He's doing it. He's actually doing it._ The thought was so terrifying that he didn't remember how to breathe, and almost choked himself on the cloth around his neck as he tried to pull away. 

Snape slowly pressed in, and pain filled Harry, even though he hadn’t been penetrated. He couldn’t take it. It was too big. Snape gripped his hip and then a sharp burst of pain blinded him. He shook as Snape speared him, his thickness tearing Harry apart. Snape moved slowly and it was as if he had miles of cock that kept invading with a terrible precision. Harry whimpered as he waited for it to finish and the burning pain to subside. It hurt. More than the whipping. More than the needles. More than the Cruciatus. 

Suddenly Voldemort entered his mind and this dual rape was too much. Voldemort was enjoying Harry’s torment, feeding off his feelings of pain and humiliation. If he had had access to his magic, he knew he would've torn the room to pieces just then. As it was, he could do nothing to destroy Voldemort. However, he wasn't completely powerless. He couldn't physically stop them from hurting him, but he wasn't going to let them rip his mind apart! 

Harry focused on locking away the memories he didn't want Voldemort to see. He couldn't lock away the most recent ones or Voldemort would grow suspicious and order Snape to hurt Harry even more, so he left those for his enemies and focused on hiding everything else. He built walls around the ones he wanted buried and pushed forward the most recent memories of Lucius and Avery because he knew Voldemort would enjoy those most. It was a welcome distraction from the pain in his arse, and he concentrated on only thinking of locking up his mind.

He was almost undone when Snape started to move, thrusting hard into his abused flesh. He had expected to get used to the feel of foreign flesh shoved into his own, but the pain intensified with each thrust, as if Snape were fucking him with a knife rather than a cock. Choking back his tears and his pain, he focused harder on his mind. He was relieved to find that, even with his physical and emotional torment, he could now control what Voldemort saw. He felt the powerful wizard shift through the memories, and he concentrated on selecting parts of each one to reveal and hiding sections he didn't want Voldemort to discover. He deliberately left most memories of Snape tucked away because of how much pain it caused him to think about any of them in which Snape was even somewhat nice to him.

After what seemed like forever, Snape finally pulled out, tearing Harry more than he had when he first pushed in. Something warm and sticky splashed on Harry’s lower back, and he hoped to hell that it was come rather than his own blood. Snape moved away from Harry and undid all the bonds except for the chains that bound his hands. 

Too exhausted from fighting both mentally and physically to move, Harry collapsed against the mattress and lay there shaking, with his face buried in his arms. Voldemort was saying something to Snape and the other Death Eaters. He was probably telling them how much he enjoyed the show. Harry lay without moving until Snape grabbed his upper arm and pulled him to his feet. Harry stumbled after him as he was led back to his personal prison. It hurt to walk and he almost fell down the stairs before Snape grew frustrated and cast Mobilicorpus on him. He was floated to the bathroom and placed in the tub. He looked down at the blood coating his inner thighs while Snape turned on the shower and washed off the blood. 

He had to get clean. He had to wash away what happened. Grabbing the soap, he scrubbed himself furiously, trying to remove all trace of blood, even though more kept dripping down his thighs. When the bath water was only mildly pink, Snape turned off the water and let the rest of it drain away. He placed a towel on the edge of the tub by Harry and left the room. Harry grabbed it and used it to cover himself but did not move to get out of the tub. He kept expecting to wake up from this horrible nightmare. It couldn't be real. This couldn't be happening to him.

Snape returned after a bit and placed a vial on the edge of the tub before moving to his spot at the far end of the bathroom. "A painkiller and a sleeping potion." His voice came from behind Harry.

Harry picked up the vial and turned it over in his fingers. The dreamlike state which had possessed him when Snape revealed his true intentions shattered and anger flooded through him so hot and strong, he couldn't see for a moment. He spun around and threw the vial at Snape as hard as he could, but his eyes made it difficult for him to aim, and the blood loss made him weak, and it smashed into the wall about a foot away from the intended target. 

"FUCK YOU, YOU ARSEHOLE! I AM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!" Right now, Harry didn't even care about Voldemort - he wanted to kill Snape so badly he couldn't stop shaking with rage. If Harry had had the strength he would've launched himself at the Death Eater and beaten him to a pulp. He wanted Snape to approach him. Wanted Snape to try to touch him so that he could tear him to pieces. 

Snape realised that he wouldn't be able to approach Harry without at least getting a finger bit off, so he spelled open the cabinet and took out two small vials. He floated them over to the edge of the tub. "At least take the one on the right, the painkiller." He spoke in a soothing voice as though Harry were a dangerous animal. "There is no need for you to be in pain, and I don't want to have to force you."

"YOU ALREADY DID, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" yelled Harry as he threw the two potions at Snape. Snape stopped them with magic, floating them into his outstretched palm. That display of magic drove Harry so wild with anger, he started sobbing hot, furious tears. The runes on his cuffs were squiggling angrily as his magic tried to return to him and if he had a knife, he would've cut off his left arm to have at least half of his magic back so that he could destroy Snape.

“ _Immobulus_.”

Harry’s body went limp, although his mind continued to rage. Of course that bastard used magic to control him - to force him. Now he'd probably have another go at him.

Snape stepped forward and opened the potion bottles. He tilted Harry’s head back, opening his mouth before pouring the potions down his throat. Harry was helpless to stop him, helpless to do anything but lay there as Snape massaged his throat to make him swallow before floating him back to his prison. 

He was placed face up on his bed, and Snape did not release him from his spells until Harry heard the library door close. Harry sat up, noticing two objects on the bedside table. His bottoms and a book: _Billy Budd_ by Herman Melville. With a cry of rage Harry threw it across the room and was delighted when he heard a loud crack as the spine hit the wall. 

Shaking with fury, he pulled on his bottoms, wincing at the pain in his arse. He would kill the fucking bastard, tear him from limb to limb, and burn the pieces so that all that was left of Snape would be a greasy stain. He pulled the covers tightly around himself and thought of ways to kill Snape until the sleeping potion kicked in.

~

He woke to the smell of food. Harry searched for Snape but didn't see him so he cautiously got out of bed and approached the table. All of his favourite foods from the dishes Snape had given him were laid out for him. If Snape thought that ordering his house-elves to make Harry's favourite dishes would make him lose his anger, the git was out of his mind. Harry was unable to resist eating the orange, tangy fruit but he ignored everything else. When he saw the new book by the leg of the table, he kicked it back into the wall, and returned back to his bed. He picked up the myth book and slowly tore out pages of myths he had already read. He wrinkled them up in balls and threw them out through the bars. The book was very old and probably very valuable, which is why he made sure to crinkle the pages as much as possible so that it could never be put right again. If he had had access to magic he would've sent the whole thing up in flames. He wanted Snape to show up so he could tear up the book in front of him, but after hours of waiting he realised that it would be a while before Snape showed up and tucked what was left of the book under his mattress.

The fruit hadn't been drugged and he was starving so he cautiously approached the table and ate a few more items. After he felt full, he returned to his bed and waited for Snape to come so he could rage at the Death Eater. Snape did not arrive and Harry eventually fell into a fitful sleep.

~

When he woke, Snape was standing outside the bars. The wadded pages of the book had been cleaned up and a new set of dishes were on the table.

Harry sneered when he saw Snape. "You may think you won but I mastered Occlumency. You can't touch me now. Try it."

" _Legilimens_!" Snape was in his mind but Harry locked everything away, only showing Snape memories of when he and his friends had made fun of the greasy bastard. He let Snape see what he wanted him to see, then threw him out.

"I mastered it last night when you raped me, so don't try to tell me that I can't do it when I'm in pain or overly emotional," Harry triumphantly informed him. "You were wrong about me."

There was a long pause before Snape said, "I didn’t want to hurt you." 

"YOU DO!!" Harry leapt up from the bed and dashed over to the table. He grabbed up a piece of bread and threw it at arsehole. "YOU KILLED DUMBLEDORE!" Seeking something harder to throw, he ran over to snatch up his mouthwash bottle and hurled it through the bars. "YOU KILLED SIRIUS!" He threw his toothpaste. "YOU KILLED MY PARENTS!" He hurried back to the table to find something else to toss as Snape strode off. He snatched up his cup of pumpkin juice and tossed it out the bars at the retreating figure.

The bastard was a fucking liar. Of course he wanted to hurt Harry. His entire life he'd done nothing but hurt Harry. He'd told Voldemort about the prophecy, he'd goaded Sirius into leaving his home, he'd killed Dumbledore, he probably was responsible for Harry's capture, and he had pretended to be nice to Harry in order to stage his little fake rescue and rape. Voldemort was evil, but not nearly as evil as Snape. Voldemort had offered Lily a chance to live and he'd only gone after Harry because of the prophecy. Snape, on the other hand, had deliberately done everything that he could to torture Harry all because he had fought with Harry's father at school. It wasn't enough to kill James Potter. He obviously wanted everyone and everything associated with him destroyed. He'd even tried to kill Lupin, who had done nothing more than be James Potter's friend. 

He had previously decided to kill Voldemort before Snape, but now he wanted to destroy the Death Eater first. Imagining the various forms of torture he'd perform on Snape before he killed him calmed him.

Once Harry had stopped shaking with anger, he ate his favourites. The orange fruit had reappeared and he ate it slowly, savouring the taste. When he finished eating, he used the toilet, washed his hands, and was about to brush his teeth when he remembered that his toothpaste was out in the hall. He felt foolish about throwing his toothpaste away, although he did not regret how he treated Snape. He wished he'd had something harder to throw at him. Maybe he'd throw the book next time, but only if he got close enough to make sure it hit the Death Eater in the face. He approached the bars and spotted his toothpaste lying by the opposite wall. There was no way he'd be able to reach it, even if he used his blanket.

Harry returned to sit on his bed. He didn't want to read the myth book, but there wasn't really anything else to do. Besides, as soon as he finished the chapters he hadn't read he could tear up the entire book. His mind made up, Harry read until his eyes grew heavy and he went to sleep.

~

He dreamed about the Horcruxes again. Hermione and Ron had found them all but needed Harry’s help destroying them. He was stuck in his cell and his friends were on the other side. For some reason, he couldn’t put his hands through the bars anymore. He tried to tell them what to do, but he could only speak Parseltongue and Ron kept saying, “Too many S-es, mate.”

He woke and desperately had to pee. Padding over to the toilet, he noticed that more offerings had been laid out on the table. Snape had given him a new shirt in addition to food. He ignored it, not wanting to take anything else from Snape. He did his business and washed his hands, only to spot that his mouthwash and toothpaste had been replaced. The idea of Snape walking around in his cell while he was sleeping creeped him out and he tried not to think about it. 

He ate a full breakfast: eggs, sausage, and crepes with strawberry jam and whipped cream, along with orange juice to drink. Unfortunately, there wasn't any of the fruit he so loved this time. He was finishing off his orange juice when Snape stepped into the hallway. Harry put down his empty cup, upset that he no longer had anything to throw at the bastard.

"Would you like to go for a bath now?" asked Snape.

"Like hell I'm doing that with you around," Harry said. "Piss off."

"Listen, I-" Snape began but Harry interrupted him when he overturned the table with strength he didn't know he had. The remains of his breakfast scattered all over the floor.

"I SAID ‘PISS OFF!!’" 

Snape wisely decided not to press the matter further and left. Harry glared after him and then sat back down in his chair. After he calmed down, he returned the table to its proper position and cleaned up the food from the floor, disposing the remains down the toilet, since he didn't know what else to do with them. He used the shirt to clean the liquids and then tossed it out of the cell.

He was too enraged to read but didn't know what else to do. He exercised, but that only increased his hatred. The monster burning in his chest was so huge and so persistent, he felt as though he were going to explode. He paced around the cell angrily and then stopped when he saw the Billy Budd book. He picked it up and returned to his bed. Tearing out the pages slowly, he rolled them into balls. He kept them on his bed, deciding that he would throw them at so that he could watch Snape's reaction at seeing his property destroyed. 

He was almost finished when he saw the words ‘starry Vere’ in a poem. It read:

"This 'tis to have been from the first 

In a domestic heaven nursed, 

Under the discipline severe 

Of Fairfax and the starry Vere." Starry Vere, Starry very. Harry had assumed Snape was saying something about Avery when he told him those words, not understanding what else it could mean. He read the rest of the page but didn't understand what the words meant. He uncrinkled the pages he had taken out and set about restoring the book so that he could read it. Harry spent the rest of the night reading the book slowly. He finished it and lay back in his bed with thoughts swirling in his head. He didn't know what to think anymore. After many long hours, he finally fell asleep.

[[A difficult entry to write! I edited it seconds before I posted it. If you are interested, you can read a summary of _Billy Budd_ [here](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Billy_Budd)]] 


	10. Chapter 10

  
Author's notes: Harry's hunting for the Horcruxes when he is captured by the Death Eaters. Snape is positioned as his prison guard.  


* * *

Food had been laid out for Harry when he woke the next morning, but he didn't feel hungry. He sat on the end of his bed and waited for Snape. When Snape arrived, he looked at the Death Eater though the bars and said, "I read the book."

Snape nodded. "I had originally intended to give it to you to read later. Did you understand it?"

Harry chewed on his lip as he thought. He was still very angry and part of him wanted to make Snape come into the room so that he could beat him senseless, but he had been so upset for the past three days, that he was emotionally and physically exhausted. He hated Snape and he wanted to kill him, but he also wanted him to explain. "I think so. There were a lot of words I didn't know. But . . . Billy is a handsome soldier who is very innocent. He ends up on a ship with Captain Vere and Claggart, who hates him for some reason. Claggart accuses Billy of mutiny and Billy hits Claggart and kills him. Vere says that Billy has to be hanged because of the law and they hang Billy." He thought he understood that it was all a metaphor and he was Billy; Snape, Vere; and Avery, Claggart. 

Snape nodded. "It may be helpful to understand that Billy was completely innocent in killing Claggart." He moved closer to the bars. "Captain Vere did not want to execute Billy. He hated what he had done to Billy until the day he died. He had no knowledge of Claggart's ill will towards Billy and desperately wished he had known of it earlier so that he could have protected Billy rather than harming him. As it was, Claggart's actions forced him to take a path he never would have embarked on if left entirely up to him. You may blame Vere for the death of Billy, but I blame Claggart because he forced Vere to hurt Billy."

Harry looked up at Snape. "So you-"

Snape held up his hand to stop him from continuing. "I'd still like to test your reading comprehension before we speak about this further."

Harry frowned in confusion. Wasn't Snape testing his reading comprehension now? Then, as if struck with lightning, he figured it out. Snape was talking about his Occlumency. He wasn't convinced Harry had perfected it yet. Harry nodded to show Snape he understood the hidden message and that they had to talk only about the book.

"I still don’t think what he did was right," Harry said quietly. "He could've helped Billy.There must have been something else he could've done to Billy besides . . . killing him." He tightened his fists. "It's his fault that Billy died."

"While I agree with you that what Vere allowed wasn't right, did he really have a choice?" asked Snape, his dark eyes fixed on Harry's. "The law was very specific in its instructions and Vere did not know if he had an actual possible mutiny on his hands, or if Claggart was lying completely. Even if there hadn't been one planned, allowing a man who killed a superior officer to escape the punishment ordered by the law would probably give possible mutineers courage and would have destabilised order. You must remember that a ship is a very different environment than a typical one, and individuals involved must play certain parts that they don’t wish to play in order to prevent actions which would undoubtedly result in total destruction."

Snape continued, speaking slowly and choosing his words carefully. "I believe that what Vere did was necessary in his particular situation. Melville's work is often interpreted as Vere failing Billy by his focus on law, order, and reason, instead of following his own heart. Vere is often seen as neglecting his true duty in critiques of this work. While I believe that it is important to not be so tied up by the letter of the law that we neglect to do what is morally right in most circumstances, I believe that in times of war and other conflict, it is sometimes _necessary_ to perform actions which are morally repugnant." He stepped closer to Harry as he spoke the last part. Harry had the feeling he was talking about more than just the rape. 

After a pause, Snape continued, "This is part of why I believe that the ‘perfect hero’ is an unobtainable ideal. Not that one would consider Captain Vere or any other persons associated with him to be heroic, but duty and morality become conflicted for any soldier, much less a heroic one. Have you understood what I've said thus far?”

Harry nodded. "I think so. It's very different from what I've always been told. I thought heroes had to try to always do what is right."

"I should think that they would _try_ to avoid doing things which are objectionable as much as possible but also be prepared to commit the worst sin imaginable if it means that a much greater good would prevail." Snape released the bars and took a step back. "If you take anything else from the book, then realise why Billy was destroyed. He was too innocent and unable to see evil when everyone around him was pointing it out to him."

"I don't think I can really be considered innocent anymore." Harry shook his head.

"You are not nearly as innocent as Billy, but some still remains in you. I trust you have learned by now to recognize evil and would recognise a need to destroy it before it destroys you." 

"Yeah." Harry unclenched his fists. He knew he needed to take care of Voldemort and Snape. "I think I got that down."

"You should take a bath now," Snape suggested. "Your sheets need to be changed and your cage hasn't been cleaned in a while." 

"Okay." Harry stood up and walked over to the bars away from where Snape stood. With a wave of his hand, Snape opened two near Harry and Harry slipped through, avoiding him as much as possible. He went straight into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He knew it wouldn't stop Snape from coming in, but hoped that he would stay away until Harry was completely covered by bubbles. Pouring in the entire bottle, Harry made a layer nearly as long as his arm. Soaking in the warm water, he leant back against the tub and tried to relax.

He wasn't sure what to think about Snape. A lot of what Snape said suggested that he didn't want to hurt Harry and never would have raped him had Avery not tried. He'd never shown that inclination towards Harry before that awful moment in the throne room, but he could've been waiting for the right moment. Either way, Harry couldn't forgive him for what he did. Even if Snape had only done it to stop Avery, then he should've found some other way to stop Avery besides raping Harry himself. It didn't make sense that rape was the only way to protect him. 

He could see Snape in Vere, who was described as having tons of books and being very straight-laced. He also saw that Snape viewed him as Billy, although he doubted the Death Eater thought he was beautiful as the soldiers had done with Billy. Once again, his world had been turned upside down and he didn't know what to do. He wished again that Hermione and Ron were with him. Hermione would know what to do. She would read all those confusing books and be able to figure what Snape was playing at. Ron would tell him what moves he needed to make in order to win. 

Harry stayed in the tub until the water went cold. He was thinking of seeing how long he could stay in the bathroom, but then he realised that Snape would enter it to fetch him eventually, and he didn't want to be naked around the Death Eater. Climbing out of the tub, he quickly dried himself off, putting on his bottoms as fast as he could. He investigated the bathroom, searching for items to use to escape, but there was nothing he could break off or manipulate. He could break the mirror and hide a piece of glass. However, he doubted Snape would fall for the same trick twice. More importantly, he had nothing to break the mirror with other than his fist and he wasn't going to try to break it unless he was sure he'd be able to shatter it before Snape heard and stepped into the room. Finally, he tried again to get into the spelled cabinet. When it remained firmly closed despite everything he did, he left the bathroom with the towel still wrapped around his shoulders. His cell had been completely cleaned, except for the food, which still remained on the table. Snape was placing something black on Harry's bed.

Harry motioned to the third door at the end of the hall as he stepped back through the bars. "What's in the room we've never gone in?"

"The laundry," answered Snape as he exited the cell well away from Harry.

"Am I ever going to see the house-elves? I'm not going to give them my clothes."

"Excuse me?" Snape's eyebrows moved as he frowned.

"The house-elves you have." Harry sat down to eat. "You said that you didn't want me giving them clothes."

There was a pause before Snape answered, "You won't see house elves here." He left.

What a git. Why did he have to keep his house elves private? Harry just wanted someone else to talk to besides Snape. He looked over his meal, which was salmon in a rich, creamy white sauce, and roast potatoes. The desert was a piece of apple pie with warm apples spilling out of a crisp crust. A dash of whipped cream rested on top of it and Harry snared his finger through it, licking it off slowly. It tasted like heaven, and he ate his desert first before finishing off his meal. 

After breakfast, he followed his morning routine. He was brushing his teeth when he suddenly realised that he hadn't had a razor near him and his chin was hairless as ever. He had no idea how long he had been held captive, but it was several weeks at the very least. It was very strange that he hadn't even grown a smattering of facial hair. Was Snape shaving him in his sleep? That was a scary thought. 

He returned to his bed where he discovered that Snape had given him a jumper. It was soft and the arms had been hemmed so they stopped at his wrists. As he pulled it over his head, it reminded him of the jumpers Mrs. Weasley always knit for him. A very sick feeling developed in his stomach as he thought of everyone who was counting on him to destroy Voldemort. He had to figure out a way to get rid of him even while trapped in this prison. Otherwise everything would be lost. 

He lay in his bed and tried to figure out how the hell he was going to kill Voldemort. He had no access to magic, no wand, no way of knowing if the other Horcruxes were destroyed or still intact, no idea if his friends were still alive and helping him, and no idea where he was being held. He couldn't imagine a worse predicament in which to find himself. How was he, basically made into a Squib, going to defeat one of the most powerful Dark wizards who ever lived? He needed to escape and get the damned cuffs off his arms. If the cuffs were removed at least he had a chance of summoning some of that accidental magic. Maybe he could blow up Voldemort like he did Aunt Marge, only this time he couldn't stop until Voldemort exploded like a popped balloon. 

Had Voldemort re-hidden his Horcruxes now that he knew they were being hunted? That was probably why he had begun Occlumency against Harry, but if that were so, why maintain it? What did he fear Harry knowing? Had he gone after Ron and Hermione or did he assume that Harry's friends hadn't known what Harry was doing? Maybe the reason they hadn't rescued him yet was because they were on the run and now at the top of the Undesirables list. 

When he realised that he had managed to make more questions than answers, he decided to retrieve what remained of the myth book. He pulled it out from under the mattress and opened it to one of the remaining stories at random. 

The story of poor Philomela tugged at his heart. Like Harry, Philomela had been kidnapped, locked in a prison, and raped. Philomela's attacker had cut out her tongue so she couldn't speak of what he had done to her. She had taken her revenge by weaving a tapestry that depicted her attack and sending it to her sister, for the rapist was her brother-in-law. The sister killed her own son and served it to her rapist husband for revenge. Harry thought the idea of killing the son for the sin of the father a bit odd, but Philomela was quite creative. He couldn't sew but perhaps he could get a letter out some other way. 

Harry sat up and looked around his cell. He had paper but no pen. He could cut out the letters, but he'd need glue to attach them to another piece of paper. He glanced over at his sink. Toothpaste! He ran over and grabbed up the small tube. Carrying it back to the bed as if it were an offering to a god, he picked up a sheet of _Billy Budd_ and tore off a small corner. He carefully smeared toothpaste on the piece and then stuck it to another page. He turned the page upside down and nearly fell off the bed in excitement when it stuck. Now all he had to do was wait and see if they still remained fixed after the paper had dried. The letters were pretty small and he wasn't going to waste time making a message if the thing fell apart later. Then again, Hermione was so clever he could probably give her all the letters independently and she'd figure out how to put them together in the right order as long as he used unique words. He should ask Snape for help in composing it; the git knew all sorts of unusual words.

Feeling giddy, Harry put the pieces of _Billy Budd_ back on the floor. He hadn't figured out how he was going to get the letter out of the house yet, but he didn't let that get his mood down. He had always been very good at improvising. 

Snape normally came twice a day and Harry expected the second visit soon based on the amount of time he thought had passed between the visits on the previous days. From his experience with the Dursleys, he had learned to judge the passing of time while confined, and he could do it fairly well, although he was far from exact. With the sleeping potions he had been given, he couldn't be sure how long he had been held captive but guessed it had been a period of more than three weeks but less than a month. The days were easier to figure out and Harry imagined it was about six pm on the internal clock he had developed. Snape normally arrived about that time, although on some days he didn't show up and that usually meant a Voldemort visit.

He pressed his ear against the wall and waited. After a short period, he heard Snape on the steps. The Death Eater was very quiet, but two of the steps squeaked softly. He pictured Snape passing through the library in his mind and stood up to grip his cell bars. The library door opened and Snape stepped through into the hallway. Snape paused when he saw Harry, an eyebrow arching.

"Did you need something?" asked Snape as he strode over.

"D'you have an owl?"

Snape's eyebrows drew inward toward the crease. "Of course I do, why?"

As casually as he could, Harry said, "I was just wondering how you knew when the Death Eaters were going to show up and who would be torturing me and stuff. I've never seen an owl." 

"I wouldn’t keep it in the cellar," Snape pointed out.

"So you do owl each other?" 

Snape's eyebrows moved and Harry could tell that if he had been able to make out more of Snape's face clearly the Death Eater would be wondering if Harry had snapped. He stepped into the cell several paces away from Harry and walked over to the table.

"Yes, in addition to personal messengers." He tapped the table with his wand and then left, his path longer than necessary as he avoided stepping near Harry. 

"And they send you an owl so you know the date and who is going to do it?" Harry walked over to sit down.

"No, I have surmised who will win the privilege of torturing you by keeping myself informed about the various acts each Death Eater has performed in order to estimate which one has gained the most favour. If you are trying to ask who will be next, then I believe it will be Bellatrix." Snape tucked his wand back in his robes.

"Aren't you worried that the Order will take your messages if you send them by owl?" Harry pulled the thick stew towards himself. 

"We use codes, but they probably aren't necessary. The Order is not nearly as well organised as we are, and far too many owls travel to try to collect them all. The Dark Lord never sends anything important by owl anyway, as it is far too insecure."

"I'd like to see your owl sometime." Harry ate his beef stew slowly. "I miss Hedwig." 

"Go back to your reading. I'll be giving you a comprehension test on the night the Dark Lord arrives." Snape left.

Harry grinned into his dinner. Snape wanted to test Harry’s Occlumency skills, which meant that he was probably willing to bring Harry a bird if he thought Harry could keep it secret from Voldemort. 

Harry went to bed with his head full of plans.

~

Snape woke him up the next morning. "Bath time, Potter. You've slept in late enough."

Harry grumbled but got out of bed. He sleepily followed Snape down the hall. Snape opened the bathroom door for him but did not follow him inside. Harry stripped then climbed into the tub. He made himself another bubble bath and was glad for it when Snape entered.

"Why are you in here?" he asked angrily.

"If you drowned, intentionally or not, the Dark Lord would have my head," answered Snape as he returned to his favourite position. Harry wanted to attack him or throw things at him until he left, but he'd never get access to an owl if he did that, so he forced his anger down.

Harry cleaned himself off completely, then grabbed a towel to cover himself and dry off. He dressed carefully, keeping a towel between his body and Snape until he had put on his bottoms. He pulled on his jumper as normal and then walked back to his cell. Snape followed him, maintaining a respectful distance as if he expected Harry to turn around and attack him any second. He spelled breakfast on the table and then stepped away so that Harry could approach the table without going near him. 

Harry sat down and attacked the thick omelette. The house-elves made the most delicious kind he had ever had. He didn't recognize most of the herbs and spices used in the cooking, but they were always balanced against each other so that no single one dominated the others. 

Snape remained in the cell and checked Harry's toiletries. He stepped behind him to examine his bed, and remained out of sight while Harry finished his eggs, drank his orange juice, and picked up his toast. Harry finally grew curious about what Snape was doing and turned around to see Snape sitting on his bed. He almost dropped his toast because Snape never sat anywhere in the room besides the other chair.

"The Dark Lord has given me permission to use you between visits provided that I don't cause you pain." Snape’s eyebrows were steady, which meant that he was wearing a neutral expression.

Harry lost his appetite. He slowly put his toast back on the plate as he tried to figure out what Snape was saying. "I don't-" Harry swallowed; his mouth dry. "Are you going to?"

"Yes." Snape dipped his head slightly. "The potion should take effect any minute now." 

"Potion?" And then it hit him. A feeling of relaxation spread over his body. Harry tried to get to his feet and run from Snape, but his legs wouldn’t move properly and he fell to the floor. "What did you give me, you bastard?"

"Something to make it easier." Snape moved to pick Harry up. 

"Don't touch me!" Harry tried to punch him, but his arms weren’t working correctly. Snape tucked an arm under Harry's shoulders and another under his legs, and carried him back to the bed, placing Harry face up on top of the bedcovers. 

The bed sheets felt amazing against Harry's skin. Better than they ever had before. He rubbed himself against them as a feeling of calm stole over him, washing away any trace of anxiety. Every part of his body relaxed and grew limp, except for his cock, which slowly hardened. He rolled over and rubbed himself against the silken sheets, which seemed to swallow him whole. It felt so amazing. His whole body was as sensitive as if he had just been born and was touching the world for the very first time. He just wanted to lay there, rubbing against the sheets forever.

Harry felt the dip of the mattress as Snape climbed onto the bed. Snape's fingers wrapped around his hips, rolling him onto his back. The simple touch was exquisite and Harry gasped. Snape slid one long leg over Harry's waist, pinning him down, as he pushed up his jumper. Harry marvelled at the feeling of Snape's robes and hands against his skin. The hands were softer than he'd ever imagined. The robes were thick and heavy and a different texture than the bed sheets. He explored as much of the heavier cloth as he could find; his fingers delighting in the sensation. His roaming hands found Snape's hair, which was even better to stroke than the robes. It fell through his fingers like the softest silk. 

Snape's arms kept knocking against Harry's wandering hands, and when Harry tried to grab them to touch them, Snape growled, "Potter," and pinned Harry's hands above his head. His voice, a delightful low rumble, cast magic and Harry shivered at the intensity of that sound. When he tried to touch Snape again, his hands remained stuck above his head and he gave a keening cry as he was denied the euphoric sensation of touching Snape. Snape pushed Harry's jumper up over his head, leaving it tangled with his bound arms. It felt nice. Harry rubbed his arms against it as much as he could.

But then Snape's hands roamed down to his chest and he gasped, so intense was the sensation. He stared up at the Death Eater above him and met his eyes, which were dark, dark pools in which Harry nearly drowned. Snape averted his gaze quickly, as though ashamed of trying to kill Harry. He tilted his head down, his dark hair hiding his eyes as he focused on the way his hands moved over Harry’s chest. Harry pressed up against those cool extremities as they left trails of fire in their wake. 

Snape's fingers found Harry's nipples, which were pointing out, eager for attention. That simple touch made Harry's cock thicken and wrenched a cry from his throat and more quickly followed as Snape continued to touch them, his hands fluttering as he stroked, rolled, pinched, and caressed the sensitive nubs. Harry writhed beneath him as he tried to get Snape to touch more parts of his needful body. Snape's lower legs were locked over Harry's just above his knees and prevented him from rubbing his cock against Snape like he wanted.

Snape lowered his head, his soft hair brushing against Harry’s chest, to taste one pink peak and Harry arched up to meet the tongue. When that glorious mouth closed around the hard peddle, Harry groaned. Snape's mouth was so hot and wet that Harry wanted to stuff his entire body in that amazing cavern. It released him then and Harry gave a cry of dissatisfaction. Snape heard his pleas and obliged him, taking the other peak, which had been sorely neglected, into his mouth. An exploring hand up wandered up to fondle the recently wetted one and the movements of Snape's fingers followed the movements of his mouth and Harry's eyes rolled back in his head as his body shook with the combined pleasure of it. He had no idea having his nipples toyed with could be this wonderful. He'd have to tell Ginny. 

It felt so fucking good and Harry was so hard, he was almost ready to come even though his dick hadn't been touched at all. Disappointingly, Snape's wondrous mouth and fingers vanished as he sat up and removed a small jar from his robes. Harry watched through needy eyes as Snape unscrewed the lid, and its scent filled the room. It rolled over Harry and his brain was too busy focusing on his cock to figure out what it was, but it reminded him of a wet late spring filled with strawberries. Snape called a chair to him and placed the jar on it after smearing some of the contents on his fingers. 

"Touch me!" Harry was tired of being ignored. "Touch me or I will hex you, you bastard!" He desperately tried to rub his bound body against Snape's.

Snape removed Harry's bottoms and spread his legs. Harry realised what he was going to do and shook his head as he tried to pull away. Everything else had been fine but not that. "No, it hurts. Not that"

Snape shifted to lie beside Harry as he took Harry's right nipple into his glorious mouth again. Harry tried to turn his body to rub against Snape, but the Death Eater threw out his leg to pin Harry's legs against the bed again. Harry was so overwhelmed by the magic Snape was causing with his mouth that he almost didn't notice Snape's right hand slowly working its way to his groin. When it brushed Harry's inner thighs he spread his legs, trying to control it with his mind. 

"My cock," he moaned. "My cock, touch my cock."

The hand was very disobedient and chose instead to slide a finger into him. He gasped, but there was no pain. His body was so relaxed that it didn't hurt at all, even when a second finger joined the first and the two began to slowly thrust in and out of him. It was such an odd sensation but he enjoyed it just as he enjoyed being touched anywhere on his body. Still, it wasn't his cock and he complained.

"You missed it!" He thrust his hips to try to get Snape's attention to his most neglected member. Snape raised his head, which infuriated Harry since his mouth had left Harry's body.

"Impatient boy." Snape's words rolled like thunder across his skin and Harry gasped at the pleasure of that dulcet tone. The fingers were exploring him, stroking over every inch of his insides.

"Give me your mouth," demanded Harry, not caring where he put it or what he did with it as long as he did something other than keep it away from him. Snape, closing his eyes, leaned forward and kissed him, his velvet tongue caressing Harry's lips before sliding into his welcoming mouth. Harry opened for him and was helpless to do anything but clumsily try to keep up as Snape sent shivers throughout his whole body with the skillful movements of his tongue, teeth, and lips. Snape's fingers finally found what they were searching for and pressed against something in his arse that made lightning shoot through his entire body. He cried into Snape's mouth and pushed back against the fingers, trying to get more. Snape removed his mouth from Harry's. 

Harry licked his lips. "You are a better kisser than Draco," he told Snape, which made the dark eyebrows scurry away from each other.

"Excuse me?" Snape's fingers stilled and Harry growled in frustration.

"Move! Touch me in there!" He shifted his hips and tried to fuck himself.

Snape added a third finger and fucked Harry with them, spreading them wide as he pulled them out before closing them and pushing them back in again. It felt good, but Harry was going to die if he didn't come already. His prick had been ignored for far too long. "Please . . . touch me...."

Snape pulled out his fingers and released the chains binding Harry's hands. Harry escaped from his jumper and grabbed the black robes, desperate for more contact. Snape shifted away, pulling Harry upright. His limbs weren't obeying his brain and when he tried to press himself against Snape, he found himself instead turned around, facing the wall. Snape grabbed his wrists, his hot hands nearly burning Harry's skin as he pulled Harry up on his knees and pressed his hands against the wall far above his head. Thunder rumbled over Harry again and chains reappeared. Snape's mouth worked magic on Harry's neck as his hands passed down Harry's chest, pausing to tease the nipples and draw more sounds from Harry's throat.

"My cock...." Harry pleaded, trying to make the hands go there. "Touch my cock." It was swollen and weeping precum profusely, crying to be touched. The hands were cruel and ignored it entirely as they stroked Harry’s inner thighs and he spread his legs. Snape pressed his chest up against Harry, still fully clothed and Harry wiggled back against him, trying to suck in all of his heat. "Touch me there."

Snape's left hand disappeared and the soft pop of buttons being undone filled the room. Snape's right hand finally gave mercy and slid towards Harry's aching need as he pressed against his back, the full prick thick between his buttocks. It had hurt last time and Harry gasped, "No, not that." Ignoring Harry, Snape pushed the tip of himself in as his right hand closed around Harry's cock. It didn't hurt this time, he just felt stretched. In fact, Snape's hand on his dick felt so wonderful, he began thrusting into Snape's fingers even though each roll of his hips drew more of Snape's thick cock into his body. Snape's other hand slid up to catch a nipple and roll it between two long fingers.

Overwhelmed by the sensation, Harry cried out and began to fuck himself faster. Snape's hands left his prick and nipple, and he screamed in frustration. He wanted to come so badly. If he hadn't been drugged, he felt as though he would have come five hundred times by now. The denial of his pleasure when he had been so close was cruel torture. 

Snape's fingers closed around Harry's hips and he buried himself deep. Harry had only a fraction of a second to marvel at the feeling of being full when Snape started pounding into him, his burning heat filling and stretching him in a way that made him cry in ecstasy with each stroke. It was already more than enough to leave Harry breathless when Snape shifted Harry's hips slightly and brushed against that thing in Harry that made stars appear. Harry was shouting something as Snape hit it with each inward stroke, but he had no idea what his brain was saying. He could feel his balls tight against his body and the tingling sensation he felt in his groin kept building and building and then he knew he was going to come even though Snape's hands weren't on his cock.

Harry screamed and shut his eyes as his prick spurted so ferociously he was afraid that he had ejaculated his intestines out onto the wall. He collapsed in a puddle of useless bones and muscles as Snape held him up and thrust a few more times before coming himself with a soft grunt. He released Harry’s bonds and lowered them both on the bed. Snape lay beside him with his chest pressed up against him, his arm tossed over his waist, and his cock softening in Harry's arse. Snape's harsh breaths filled his ears and his warm heat spread throughout Harry's body. Harry could feel Snape's heart beat through his robes and the organ beat so loudly it seemed to be trying to escape from the his chest. Harry rested against the half-embrace, feeling incredibly satiated and even a little cared-for. 

He had never been held like that before. Snape's larger body covered his entirely and the hand thrown casually over his chest curled towards him as if it had been in the process of moving to tightly hug him when interrupted. He felt protected, which was weird because he was fully aware of what Snape had just done. The man's cock was still in his arse! Still . . . he closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel protected and loved, even if it was all an illusion. He and Snape lay like that until Snape's breathing returned to normal. Snape carefully removed himself completely. He sat up on the bed and put his feet on the floor. Harry remained curled up on the bed with his eyes closed as if he were sleeping. He felt Snape's Scourgifys as he was cleaned both internally and externally. Snape finished, he picked up the sheet, which had gotten kicked to the side, and spread it over Harry's body. Harry had never been tucked in before and it sent a pang to his heart as Snape smoothed the sheet out over him. 

Once he heard the library door close, Harry rolled over and pressed into the warm spot Snape's body had left on the sheets. He tried to melt into the mattress and let the warmth spread throughout his limbs. He fell asleep with his fingers curled in the sheets.

 

_Please review!_


	11. Chapter 11

  
Author's notes: Harry’s hunting for the Horcruxes when he is captured by the Death Eaters and held as a prisoner/slave. Snape is positioned as his prison guard.  


* * *

Snape woke him by yanking off the sheets. "Up, Potter. Bellatrix is here."

"What the hell?" Harry asked in confusion. 

Snape spelled a chain between Harry's cuffs and dragged him to his feet. "The Dark Lord is waiting."

Harry stumbled after him. He felt strangely calm for being led to Voldemort. "Did you drug and fuck me earlier or was that some crazy dream?"

"Do you typically dream about that, Potter?" asked Snape in a rough voice.

"No!" He shuddered. "I've just had a lot of crazy dreams lately."

Snape pulled him down the hallway. "I will invade your mind while Bellatrix tortures you tonight." The door to the throne room opened and Harry stumbled through.

Bellatrix, Voldemort, and Lucius were waiting. 

Harry took one look at Voldemort with his scaly face, red eyes, and lack of nose and nearly burst into laughter. He had enough sense to cover his mirth with a cough. He needed to get over this drug and quickly. How could he begin to Occlude with his mind so messed up? 

"My Lord," said Snape as he shoved Harry into a kneeling position, then knelt before his master. 

"Have you a gift for me?"

"Yes, my Lord." Snape raised his head to meet his Master’s eyes and Harry knew Voldemort was reading the Death Eater's mind. His face burned as he thought of how he must look in Snape’s memory. Voldemort was apparently very pleased because he gave that awful laugh.

"You are quite inventive, Severus. Who would imagine that I'd see Harry Potter begging for Death Eater cock."

Harry's entire body filled with the heat of his fury and shame, covering the mild euphoria still lingering in his system. He shook as he clenched his fists so hard, he cut his palms with his nails. 

"I don't see how you can touch him." Bellatrix sneered as she walked over to her prize. "I can't stand having any part of his filthy body near me. _Crucio_!"

Screaming, Harry writhed on the floor in agony. He’d earlier decided to try Snape's advice and did not restrain any expression of pain. It wasn’t difficult to allow his body to tremble uncontrollably. Snape moved over to stand near Bellatrix as if enjoying the show, his eyes fixed firmly on Harry's. A push of magic told him that Snape had penetrated his mind and he showed him his memories of the night before? Earlier day? After he showed him that, he focused on his memory of his second year when he had set off the firecracker in Snape’s classroom so that Hermione could steal into his storeroom. Apparently satisfied, Snape pulled out and turned away.

He started to lose control after Bellatrix had been at it for what seemed like hours. The image of Neville's parents at St Mungo's seeped into his mind. How long before he ended up like them? 

"That will be all for tonight, Bella," Voldemort commanded in what was almost an affectionate tone.

Bellatrix stepped away, and he could do nothing but shake with pain. The Death Eaters moved to the far side of the room and conversed among themselves. Harry was in too much pain to try to listen to their conversation. He desperately wished for oblivion brought on by painkillers and sleeping potions as he lay on the floor, unable to do anything but hurt. 

Finally, footsteps approached him and Snape dragged him to his feet. He did his best to stand, and managed not to puke all over the floor.

"Remember, Severus," Voldemort's deadly voice floated across the room. "You have been given a gift. If you displease me, I will give him over to Avery and you will never be able to use him again."

"I understand, my Lord," said Snape. "I will not fail you. You will have plenty of visions to enjoy."

A door shut and Snape floated Harry down to his cell, placing him on his bed.

"Drink."

Harry turned his head to see Snape holding the same type of vial that held the painkiller out towards him. He opened his mouth and swallowed what Snape poured in. "I told you I did it." He closed his eyes.

"It is greatly improved," agreed Snape.

" _Without_ you," Harry felt compelled to point out before he fell asleep.

~

Harry woke in a bathtub filled with a strange whitish fluid. Snape was bathing him with a flannel, his forearms bare. A powerful feeling of déjà vu washed over Harry.

He mumbled, "I've been here before." 

"Yes, this is the best treatment for the Cruciatus," murmured Snape as he picked up one of Harry’s feet and rubbed the flannel over the heel.

"I thought it was a dream." He lay back and relaxed in the warm water, feeling very drowsy yet not tired.

"You are developing a tolerance to the sleeping potion. I am reluctant to give you any more." Snape cleaned between his toes. The touch of the cloth distant, as though it were happening through a dream.

"Why d'you give it to me?" Harry watched the Dark Mark move slowly up his leg. He could feel his anger that Snape was touching him while he was naked burning in his core, but he was too tired and relaxed to try to bring it to the surface. 

Snape paused, set Harry’s foot down in the tub, and poured an open bottle on the cloth. He started on Harry's other foot. "You have a tendency to exacerbate your injuries with your refusal to remain still for long periods of time. The Cruciatus can cause nerve damage if you are highly mobile after being exposed to pronounced episodes of it. I have cut off your ability to feel the pain caused by your overactive nociceptors. They are still firing rapidly, so I use the bath and the salve to calm them down so that I do not have to give you large amounts of pain killers mixed with sedatives while waiting for the nociceptors to return to a normal state.”

"My noci-what?" Harry asked in confusion as Snape finished his leg, stopping just above the knee.

"Your nociceptors – neurons that send pain signals to your brain."

"D'you know everything?" Harry asked suspiciously.

The ends of Snape’s mouth quirked up as he poured more lotion on his flannel and moved behind Harry. He gently pushed him into a sitting position and rubbed the potion into Harry’s back. "After repeated sessions of the Cruciatus, I was determined to develop a better way to recover from the effects. I searched through Muggle literature on pain until I was fairly sure how the spell worked, and then experimented with potions until I developed one that proved productive. I originally created it to be ingested, but I have since found that it is far more effective if administered as directly as possible rather than waiting for it to be metabolised by the liver."

"I don't understand how you can use Muggle literature to figure out the type of potion to make." Harry brought up his knees and relaxed against his legs as Snape massaged his back with the flannel. The sleeping potion still in his system left him feeling as though his body was made of water.

"Scientific literature to be exact. Wizard bodies appear to be nearly identical to Muggle bodies. That's why wizard magic can heal or hurt Muggles." Snape's flannel worked Harry’s neck, and he pressed back against it, enjoying the feel of the cloth sliding over his skin. It wasn’t nearly as good as it had been on the sex potion, but it still felt very nice.

"What is magic?" 

"No one knows. I've heard many theories, and the strongest argument seems to be that magic users are able to manipulate one of the other dimensions." Snape manoeuvred Harry back to lean against the tub. His fingers slid through Harry’s hair as he rubbed the potion into his scalp.

"Other dimensions?"

"Yes, length, width, height, time are dimensions. You may remember how I told you during your fifth year that these matter in magic." Snape's fingers skillfully worked their way across his skull. "Some Muggles believe that there are other dimensions which impact us but can not be seen or detected with current technology. It is possible that we, through a genetic mutation, are able to manipulate these unseen dimensions and produce magic." 

"How d'you know all this stuff?" Harry tilted his head back so Snape could run the lotion under his fringe. 

"I've spent most of the last month reading. My duty towards you doesn't take that much of my time,” Snape said, then smeared the lotion on Harry's face with the flannel. 

Harry closed his eyes. "How d'you get the books? Have I been here a month?" 

"I order everything by mail. I brought most of my library when I knew I would be living here." Snape finished with Harry's face and then worked the lotion over the front of his throat. 

Harry noticed his avoidance of the second question but did not try to press the issue. "Who is in charge at Hogwarts?"

"The Carrows," spat Snape. The darkness in his voice suggested he not at all pleased by that fact. "I requested of the Dark Lord to remain at my position, but he was insistent that I play jailer to you."

"Why you?" Harry opened his eyes and watched Snape's hand move over his chest. Snape's fingers brushed over his nipples, sending a twitch to his groin, but the hands did not linger and worked their way lower.

"At that time, I was the one he most trusted. I also knew sensitive information and I think he understands that I am one of the few with restraint enough to obey his orders not to harm you while he isn't around. I also know more about healing than most other Death Eaters, which means I can restore you efficiently. Since I am a non-Pureblood I was also the most equipped to deal with the terms of your imprisonment," Snape said as he rubbed Harry's belly. Harry was about to object to him going lower when he stopped and pulled his hand with the flannel out of the water, wringing it out into the tub.

"At the time you were the favourite, but not now?" Harry relaxed again.

"The Dark Lord grants favours through work and I have not been able to win his favour through acts as easily as the others." Snape walked over to wash his hands in the sink behind Harry.

"You just got a favour," Harry pointed out although he didn't feel like reminding Snape of the specifics.

"For which I have Avery to thank," Snape muttered darkly. "I will need to do something noteworthy soon so that I can continue to remain in his good graces."

"Just don't involve me." Harry cupped his hand and examined the strange water.

"Move as little as possible," ordered Snape as he spelled the tap to add more hot water. "I will place a bubblehead charm on you and then you should rest completely under water while moving as little as possible."

"What about my arms?"

"I coated them while you were still asleep." Snape cast the charm and Harry let himself sink beneath the surface of the water. The tub was pleasantly warm, and Snape turned off the hot water to let him soak. Harry closed his eyes and drifted off.

~

Harry woke when Snape began draining the tub. He sat up and the bubble-head charm disappeared. He was still far more sleepy and serene than he would've normally been. Snape was sitting on a chair in his corner, reading a book. His forearms had been covered again.

Harry watched the water drain out of the tub. "I hate being drugged. I've not been myself for a while."

"Would you have so placidly rested and allowed me to bathe you?" Snape asked from behind him.

"No, I would've punched you as hard as I could."

"I thought so." Snape stood up and walked over. Harry felt the familiar sensation of Mobilicorpus lifting his body up out of the water, and then Snape wrapped him in a very soft, fluffy black robe that smelled like its owner. Harry breathed in the scent of Snape and remembered how the smell had originally disgusted him. He guessed he had got used to Snape, or the greasy git had finally learned to bathe because the smell was relaxing rather than agitating. 

Snape floated him back to his cell. It irritated Harry, who wanted to walk, but his limbs weren't fully responding to his orders. Snape laid him on his bed and then dressed him carefully. Harry moved his limbs as best he could to make it go quicker. Snape took away the robe when he was finished and Harry was disappointed by its loss. Maybe he could convince Snape to give him one of his own. The robe he had previously owned was no where near as soft as that one had been. 

"I'm not tired, just sleepy." Harry protested when Snape laid the cover over him. He knocked back the sheet and forced himself into a sitting position. "And I'm hungry."

Snape tapped the table. Food appeared and Snape conjured a tray with two thick handles. He turned the tray upside down and placed the food on top of it. He floated it over to Harry and the handles fit perfectly on either side of Harry’s thighs so that he had his own little table. Breakfast was composed of porridge, but it was a fancy porridge with little cups around it holding such things as nuts, blueberries, strawberries, bananas, raisins, brown sugar, and butter.

"Finish it off completely," Snape said. "If it grows cold you have permission to make noise and I will give you a warm bowl."

"Did you put potions in it?" Harry sniffed it suspiciously.

"No, I have no need to give you potions now. Eat up." Snape strode out of the cell.

Harry added all of the toppings and ate slowly. He had never liked porridge before, but the bowls he’d tried had been watery, not thick and delicious like this. Where the hell Snape had found house-elves who were so good at cooking? Maybe Snape made them read cookbooks like he made Harry read old books. 

By the time Harry had finished breakfast his limb movement returned, which was good because he really had to pee, and the last thing he wanted to do was have Snape come hold his dick. His face burned as he thought of how Snape _had_ held his dick. The pervert. If Snape had to have sex with Harry so Voldemort could have wank fantasies then at least he should have the decency to drug him completely out of consciousness, instead of giving him that weird potion. 

After his morning ablutions were complete, Harry decided to check on how the toothpaste had held up as a glue. He was delighted to find it worked remarkably well. If he curled up the paper very tightly, then the pasted on piece moved slightly but overall, it remained securely in place. He pulled everything onto his bed and then searched through the pieces of Billy Budd until he found a page that was mostly blank. Now . . .what to write? He needed to convince them that he was the one who had written the letter as well as tell them as much as possible about his situation. 

But what did he know about his situation? He was being held captive in some sort of house with Snape as his prison guard. Voldemort wanted him alive and unhurt when the two were away from each other. Harry was being blocked from his magic by use of runes and hadn't been able to escape despite several attempts. Snape ordered items by owl, which meant that they'd possibly be able to track down the house by following the owl. He would have to give them clues about things Snape would probably order so they knew where to search for the owl.

What would Snape order? Large orders of all-black clothes, tons of books – both Muggle and wizard, gallons of pumpkin juice, and unusual foods. 

Harry pulled out what remained of the myth book and carefully tore out a few more pages of myths he had already read. The Billy Budd letters were too small for him to write his message. It took him a while but he finally managed to write, "Ron n herMione Im in voldy prisOn snApe guard gits muGgle booKS by owl geT all the HC ?" 

He hoped Hermione would understand HC to mean Horcruxes. He felt very tired by the time he finished, so he tucked his letter in the middle of his myth book, slid it under his mattress and drifted off to sleep.

~

He was chained up naked on his bed and Ginny was standing beside him wearing a tight pink shirt that showed off her breasts, and a white skirt.

"Ginny!" he exclaimed, "Did you come to rescue me?"

"Yes, but first, let's have sex." She yanked off her shirt and climbed on top of him. Her fingers found and pinched his nipples and he moaned and pulled on his bonds as he tried to touch her. "It feels good to have them touched, doesn't it?" She breathed and moved her body up so one small, pert white breast dipped towards his lips. "Suck my tits, Harry."

He lifted up his head and took the small pebble in his mouth, tonguing it as he greedily sucked.

She threw back her head and moaned with delight. "Ah, you are so good, Harry!"

She pulled back and moved down to lick his nipples. Her tongue was electric and little sparks shot into his nipples and spread throughout his body. She licked him like a cat eating cream and asked, "I'm much better at this than Snape is, aren't I?"

"Much better." He became aware of the thickness of his cock and tried to thrust back against her.

"Know what else I am better at?" She sat back.

"What?" 

"Fucking you." She ripped off her skirt and Harry saw that she had a penis. It was white like the rest of her, long and thin with a dark red tip.

"You're a boy?" He asked in confusion.

"Yes, mum wanted a daughter so she made me one. You don't mind, do you?"

"As long as it is you," he assured her.

She moved between his legs and was suddenly inside him and she thrust, knowing just how to hit that spot inside of him that made him squirm. 

"Oh god, Ginny, you’re so fucking good!" He moaned in pleasure and thrust back against her. Fuck, she made him so hard. 

She bent down to kiss him and she tasted of strawberries. "Let's be gay together, Harry."

"I'm not gay!" he insisted.

"Okay then." She was suddenly on top of him and a girl again and then he was inside her and her pussy clenched around him like a hand. "Yes, Harry, fuck me!" she cried and his hands were free and he grabbed her hips and drove up into her as hard and fast as he could. "Harry! Harry! Don’t stay here, come back to me. I miss you, Harry."

"Yes! Yes! Oh fuck, Ginny!" Her pussy gripped him so tightly and he came into her. Something warm and wet landed on his face. Startled, he opened his eyes to see himself holding his still twitching prick in his hand and come splattered over his torso. He released himself and lay back in the bed. 

What a fucked up dream. He hoped it was the fault of the potions he had been given. What the fuck had Snape done to him? He couldn't even have normal sex dreams anymore. He had been turned into a woman even with a woman. He swallowed thickly as he thought of Ginny. She'd never respected him if she knew he had been raped. He'd never tell her. Never. Girls wanted guys who were strong, not guys who got raped. That only happened to girls. 

Feeling sick, he got out of bed and cleaned himself off. Ron would be disgusted with him. Ron would've fought like hell and never allowed it to happen. God, he'd enjoyed it too. He'd begged Snape to fuck him. Feeling very sick, Harry puked in the toilet. He threw up until nothing but saliva came out and then gagged some more. When his dry heaves had finished, he turned on the sink and splashed cold water on his face. He tried to return to his bed but his legs were weak and he fell to the floor half way. Fuck. Fuck. He had to get out of here. He had to get Ron and Hermione to rescue him. But he was afraid. What if they showed up while Snape was on top of him? They'd be grossed out and leave. They'd never understand. 

He managed to pick himself up and get back to bed. Shaking violently, he pulled the covers over himself and curled in a ball. He couldn't do this. He couldn't just stay here and be tortured and hurt until nothing of him remained. He had to kill Voldemort before all was lost. He had to get out of here and get a wand or he'd die trying. 

Uncurling himself, he retrieved his myth book. His letter was still perfect, all the letters stuck in place. Stroking the paper, he re-read the note several times before closing the book and placing it back under his mattress. It was his beacon of hope. He just needed to survive long enough to get the message out to them that he was still alive so they could come rescue him. If that meant allowing Snape to . . . touch him again, so be it. Once he got the letter out, he'd never allow Snape to come near him again. Even if Snape locked him in a cupboard and fed him dog food, he'd refuse to do what the bastard wanted. His mind set, Harry curled into a ball and waited for Snape to bring dinner.


	12. Chapter 12

  
Author's notes: Harry’s hunting for the Horcruxes when he is captured by the Death Eaters and held as a prisoner/slave. Snape is positioned as his prison guard.  


* * *

Snape arrived a few hours later. He stepped through the bars and touched the table. "I expect the Dark Lord will arrive in a few more days. We should . . . have intercourse within the next two days."

Harry just stared at the wall. There was no point in objecting. Snape would force him.

Snape stood by the table for a while. Harry remained curled in a ball and ignored him. Finally, Snape stepped out through the bars. "Do try to eat. I haven't drugged anything. If you'd like I can give you the drug I used last time to make things easier for you."

Even though he'd told himself that he'd pretend to go along with what Snape wanted, he just couldn't do it. Harry threw his covers off of him as he propelled himself upright. "Of course I want the fucking potion! Do you think I'd willingly have sex with a greasy, ugly git like you?!” 

"Shut up!" spat Snape. "I have no attraction to runty, undeveloped, little-"

Harry flew at the bars. "TAKE THAT BACK!" he screamed as he tried to reach Snape to punch his face in. "YOU FUCKING TAKE THAT BACK!"

"I have done nothing but tried to help you for-"

"YOU FUCKING LIAR!" Harry beat his fists against the bars in rage. "COME HERE SO I CAN KILL YOU!" He slammed his fist against the bar so hard blood spurted from his knuckles.

"Stop, Harry!" Snape moved closer to him and Harry tried to grab him, but he dodged out of the way. "You are hurting yourself!"

"GOOD! I HOPE VOLDEMORT COMES AND CRUCIOS YOUR ARSE! I HOPE YOU FEEL THIS!" He smashed his other fist against the bar.

" _Petrificus Totalus_!" 

Harry froze in mid-swing. How dare that fucking bastard use magic against him! 

" _Mobilicorpus_!" Harry's body was lifted and floated back to the bed. Snape wordlessly cast the chaining spell and then made bonds appear around Harry's ankles too. Pulling out a potion from his robes, he poured it into Harry's mouth, then put his hand under Harry's chin. He released the bond at the same time that he shut Harry's jaw and pinched Harry's nose. Harry thrashed wildly and held his breath, but he couldn't last and finally he was forced to swallow the potion. 

Snape released him and he screamed at him, "I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"

Snape turned on his heels and strode out of the room. Harry howled and shook himself as violently as he could in the bed. He didn't feel any pain anymore, even when he twisted his arms in positions that would have been very painful ordinarily. 

After a bit, Snape returned and put a box on the table. Harry had howled himself hoarse and could only glare at Snape, wishing that he was a basilisk. 

"Potter," said Snape calmly as he poured a potion into a cloth, "save your anger for when you destroy the Dark Lord. You will kill him, won't you?"

"I-!" Harry was caught off guard. "What?"

"The Dark Lord. The reason why you left school after the sixth year was to destroy him. It's what you most wish to do, correct? Even if it costs you your life...." Snape stepped closer.

"Of course I want to kill him, you idiot! I would do it right now if I could!"

"I will train you...." offered Snape as he dabbed the potion against Harry's wounded knuckles.

"WHAT?!"

"...to kill the Dark Lord," he continued calmly. "However, I must insist that you acquiesce to a few demands."

"I what?" Harry's head hurt.

Snape finished painting his knuckles with the lotion and bandaged them up. "You must agree to follow some rules I lay out. The choice is yours. You can stay here and try to get out on your own, or wait for your friends to save you. Perhaps you will find yourself lucky, perhaps not. The Dark Lord will have no use for you eventually and then you will be killed or worse. Or . . . you can become my student again.”

Harry stared at his blurry face, his brain trying to catch up. Snape finished with Harry's hands and released the bonds on Harry's legs. In the same nonchalant manner, he checked Harry's ankles for injury.

Snape rubbed the lotion into Harry's ankles as he continued. "I will require several concessions on your part before I teach you, however. First and foremost, the Dark Lord must never get a hint of what I am offering to do. If I even have an inkling that your Occlumency is weak against him or that you will reveal this secret to him in a fit of anger against me, I will not hesitate to completely Obliviate you. Do not doubt me when I say that I will do it in a heartbeat in order to protect myself. I will not have my life destroyed because you got angry with me for doing something that was required of me."

He bandaged up the ankles and undid the bonds between Harry's cuffs. Harry did not object when Snape pushed up the sleeves of the jumper to check for injuries. "The second rule is that you must speak to me in a respectful manner."

Harry opened his mouth to protest but Snape continued, "Just listen. We don't have to like each other. We can still hate each other all we want . . . but I will not have you flinging insults at me whenever I do something you don't like. While I still dislike you, I promise to be more civil towards you than I was during your school years."

"Don't call me stupid," insisted Harry. "Or little."

Snape nodded and released Harry’s arm. He sat back on the chair. "I also must insist that you take this duty seriously and train as you have never trained before. I will push you hard, and I do this not to be sadistic, but because I have no idea how much time we have, or how long I will be able to remain here with you. Any day, the Dark Lord could decide that he needs me elsewhere and replace me with another guard."

As much as he hated Snape, that announcement made Harry's stomach twist.

Snape said, "Finally, you must do your duty and kill him or any other Death Eater who stands in your way. I do not want to spend time training you only to have you die when you hesitate to kill a Death Eater and allow him to cast on you first. Likewise, when I finally bring you before the Dark Lord to destroy him, you will do your absolute best. Right now, he doesn't view you as a danger but the minute he views you as a threat, he will destroy you. If you are lucky, he will kill you. If you are not, what is being done to you here will seem like heaven compared to what he has in store." Snape leaned in close so Harry could see his cold, glittering black eyes. "Do you understand me?"

Harry nodded slowly, his mouth too dry to speak. 

Snape stood up. "Come, eat your dinner."

Harry shakily slid out of the bed and into the chair Snape had just occupied. He picked up the spoon and began eating his beef stew. Snape watched him for a minute and then left.

Harry's thoughts were a whirl. Snape wanted him to kill Voldemort? Why the hell was he working for him then? Why did he kill Dumbledore? Was Snape lying to try to gain Harry's trust again? Harry suspected that if he asked Snape why he wanted to kill Voldemort, he'd either lie or not give Harry a straight answer. It just didn't make sense with what he knew of Snape, but Snape had probably been planning to train Harry at some point if he had a list of rules already formulated in his head. 

Harry felt lost and confused. Snape had a way of unhinging him. He ate his stew slowly and tried to figure out what to do. He supposed he had nothing to lose by letting Snape teach him. If Snape was just trying to gain his trust, then the lessons would come in handy for when he killed him. 

He finished his dinner, brushed his teeth, and climbed into his bed. His fit of rage had left him exhausted even with his earlier rest. Snape would have to give him a wand to train him, wouldn't he? The thought of holding a wand again made the tightness in his chest ease and he slept soundly.

~

"Bath time, Potter," insisted Snape from the bars.

"Wha?" Harry rolled over. He had been in the middle of a good dream that had evaporated instantly at the Death Eater's voice.

"You slept all morning," said Snape impatiently.

Harry yawned and rolled out of bed. He sleepily approached the bars. "Not like I can tell."

Snape waved him through without casting the chain. Hurriedly, Harry scurried to the bathroom. He hated having his hands chained while bathing; it made the whole process a million times more difficult. He wasn't about to let Snape remember that he had forgotten to spell the chain. Snape followed, brushing past Harry as he approached the chair that had appeared last time.

Harry scowled at the Death Eater, hating the touch even if it was just the edges of Snape's robes. Snape ignored him and pulled out a book to read as he sat down. Harry’s eyes couldn't make out the title, but he bet it was old and boring. He climbed into the empty tub and started the taps himself. He poured in nearly half the small bottle of bubble bath even though it rarely took more than one fourth of it to get a nice layer of bubbles. He scrubbed himself, annoyed he couldn’t clean under the cuffs.

"You know, my skin here-" He tapped his cuff. "-is probably really dirty. You should take them off for a little while so I can clean my arms completely."

Snape looked up from his book and one of his eyebrows rose in a ‘you must be kidding’ expression. Harry turned back to his bath. "Worth a try," he muttered.

"Why don't they use cuffs like these in Azkaban?" Harry shampooed his hair.

Without looking up from his book, Snape said, "They are fairly easy to remove with a basic understanding of Runes and one of the more heinous punishments imaginable for a witch or a wizard is to be isolated from magic. You were Muggle raised so it doesn't affect you as much." Snape turned the page on his book.

"Even worse than being around Dementors?"

"For many, it is far more abhorrent." 

"That's silly." Finished bathing, Harry scooped up a big pile of bubbles and blew them across the bathtub.

"Finished, Potter?" Snape closed his book and stood. 

"Yeah, close your eyes." Harry watched the Death Eater to see if the dark spots under Snape's eye brows turned lighter in colour. When they didn't, he scowled. "I can tell they're still open!"

"You are ridiculous." Snape swept past him and left the bathroom.

Harry jumped out of the tub and wrapped a towel around himself. He let the water out of the tub as he dressed. Rubbing his hair dry, he wandered back to his cell. Snape had spelled food on the table and walked out to stand near the door to the library. He opened the bars for Harry, than started to stride off towards the library.

"Wait!" Harry called. "Aren't you going to train me?"

Snape halted. "You've not yet agreed to the terms."

"I gotta kill him when I get the chance. I can't let him know what we are doing," Harry paused as he tried to think of the other two. "I have to train as hard as I can...."

"And you must maintain a level of respect," Snape finished for him. "You will address me as ‘Sir’ or ‘professor’ while we are engaged in lessons. I do not require it else wise, certainly not while we are..... Anyway, the most important aspect is that you must never let the Dark Lord know of our plans. I will test your Occlumency as often as possible while he is in your presence. If you are not properly shielding those memories at all times he and any other Death Eater are near you, then I will Obliviate you. Understood?”

"Yes, I won't mess it up." Harry nodded.

"Eat your breakfast first and then we will begin." Snape left in a swirl of black.

Harry hurried over to the table. A small feast had been laid out for him that consisted of thick sausages, a fat omelette, bacon, toast, kippers, and orange juice. He ate until he was stuffed and then used the toilet, washed his hands, and brushed his teeth. When he was finished, he perched, bursting with excitement, on the edge of his bed waiting for Snape to return. 

He waited for what seemed like hours and was about to go bang his cuffs against the bars in anger when Snape strode in, a strange, shifting object of a mix of colours floating behind his black form. Snape had his wand out and when he flicked it towards the table, the remains of Harry's breakfast disappeared. The table itself suddenly appeared outside of the cell to the left of Snape, along with the chairs, which rested on top of the table. The multi-coloured object on Snape’s right pulsed and swirled. Harry desperately wished he had his glasses so he could find out what it was.

"Take off your jumper and move to the middle of your cell," commanded Snape.

Harry did so in an instant, eager to find out what was next. 

"The first and probably most crucial lesson for you is dodging," Snape said. "Casting defensive spells negatively impacts your ability to cast offensive ones. Furthermore, most of the spells that the Dark Lord and the other Death Eaters will use against you will be ones such as the Killing Curse which can not be blocked. Try to avoid these.”" 

The writhing thing by Snape spit a small blue object that whizzed towards Harry. His seeker skills kicking in, Harry grabbed it before he knew what he was doing. It was a small blue ball, about the size of a golf ball.

"You aren't supposed to catch spells, Potter," said Snape with impatience in his voice.

"Sorry." Harry dropped it. "Give me another."

Snape arched his eyebrow at him.

Harry sighed. "Give me another, sir."

Snape sent a red one speeding towards Harry and he easily stepped out of the way. Two blues soon followed, but Harry was able to twist himself out of their path. Snape varied the number and pace as Harry dove and weaved around the cell. It was rather fun, and he was quite proud of how he managed to evade all the projectiles Snape had thrown at him. It was harder than Quidditch and he wished for a broom, but avoiding the bludgers had taught him quick reflexes. He dove onto the bed to avoid a green and jumped off the other side, a red narrowly missing him. Dashing across the room, he twisted and turned to avoid a rapid volley. He tripped over his feet and fell, three balls hitting his chest.

"Ow," he said, more in surprise than pain as he found himself on the floor.

"Are you hurt?" asked Snape.

"No, sir." He picked himself up. "I wish I had a broom."

"If you do become injured, let me know immediately," insisted Snape. 

"Yes, sir." He brushed himself off. "I'm ready."

Snape worked him until he was panting and sore. Finally, Snape slashed his wand horizontally and all the balls fell to the floor. 

"You need another bath." Snape summoned the balls to his right side and returned the table and chairs. "Next time, we will have you bathe after the lesson. Bring your jumper; your clothes need to be washed."

Harry snatched up his jumper and stepped through the opening in the bars Snape spelled. The exercise had felt wonderful, and he didn't mind the soreness in his legs. He was quite proud of his success rate. They had been at it for hours, and Harry had only been hit four times and he thought Snape had cheated on at least two of those. 

"I'm taking a shower so don't watch." He announced to Snape as he stepped in the bathtub. Snape ignored him and took Harry’s clothes away to be cleaned. Harry was out of the shower and dry by the time Snape returned with his clothes. 

"Turn around," he ordered Snape as he moved to put them on.

Snape did so but said, "We will have to put on a show today."

Freezing, Harry stared at Snape’s black form as he slipped out through the bathroom door and disappeared. He didn't want to be reminded of that. Not when he was feeling so good. His stomach twisted and he thought about locking himself in the bathroom and refusing to emerge. No, Snape wouldn't train him anymore and he needed to get his letter out. Feeling as though he was walking to his execution, Harry slowly made his way back to his cell. Snape was waiting inside, an impassive statue by the bed, and Harry was filled with the inexplicable urge to try running away again. 

Snape removed a vial from his robes and placed it on the table. "The potion."

Harry stepped into the cell and had to hold onto the bars for support. "No."

"No?" asked Snape softly. 

Harry stood up straight. "I'm not drinking it with you in here. You have to go out through the bars and stay there until I say you can come in."

Snape said nothing and for a moment, Harry thought he would refuse. Then, he strode out and the bars closed behind him.

Slowly, Harry approached the table and sat down in the chair. He stared at the potion as if it were poison. 

"Once you are under its effect, you must not act in a way that would let the Dark Lord know you chose to drink the potion or are being trained by me. He will be suspicious if the memory is interrupted, so you must play your part perfectly. I will stop if you really need me to, but that would entail us engaging in this a second time and I am sure you’d prefer to avoid that."

"Yeah." Harry grabbed the bottle and opened it with trembling fingers. "You can’t come in until I say ‘okay.’"

"Very well."

Harry quaffed the potion. It tasted bitter and chalky and seemed to settle thickly in his stomach. He closed his eyes, put his hands on the table, and waited for it to kick in.

He didn’t feel anything for several minutes and he was about to ask if Snape had given him the wrong potion, when he suddenly became aware of how wonderfully cool the wood of the table felt beneath his fingers. He ran his hands across it, delighting in the texture. It was smooth yet hard and each grain of wood was a beautiful imperfection. 

He needed to touch it more, which is why he climbed up on top of it. He rubbed his chest against it and his jumper slid up as he pulled back so the cool hardness pressed against his chest. It was a euphoric sensation and he wanted to sink into the table and feel its perfection against every pore of his skin. 

"Potter, get off the table and get in the bed." Snape's thunder rolled across him and he shook his head and rolled onto his back to rub his lower back against the wood.

"No, I like the table." He pet it affectionately.

"Potter, I am not climbing on the table." A large black smudge approached Harry and a black covered arm reached out to take him away.

"No." He rolled away and fell off the table. He didn't hit the floor. Something fuzzy yet invisible held him securely. It manoeuvred him and carried him over to the bed as Snape followed. 

The sheets were better than the table, and he rubbed himself against them as his cock hardened. Snape rolled him onto his back and stripped off his bottoms. It felt wonderful to have his prick exposed to the cool air, but he wanted more so he reached out and closed his fists in the black and yanked Snape down towards him, remembering how good it felt when Snape touched him last time.

Snape caught himself with his arm. "Do I need to chain you?" He climbed onto the bed by Harry, threw his leg over Harry's, and pushed up his jumper. Harry sat up so Snape could pull it off of him, then collapsed back against the bed. His nipples were hard like his cock and needed to be touched. Snape agreed with them and slid his hands across Harry's chest to take each one between finger and thumb. 

"Ah!" Arching his back, Harry pressed into Snape's wonderfully warm hands. If only Snape had three hands so he could touch Harry's cock while playing with his nipples. Snape was staring at his handiwork, a curtain of black hair hiding his face. He had never looked at Harry's face since that once the first time. Harry reached up a hand to curl his fingers in Snape's hair, marveling at how soft and sleek it felt between his fingers. He tried to move Snape's hair to see his eyes but Snape grabbed his wrist and, without looking at Harry, took his other one and chained them both to the bedposts. 

"I want to touch," Harry protested and arched his back, trying to escape the chains. 

Snape's head bent down to taste one needful nipple and Harry forgot all about touching Snape for a moment as his cock thickened while Snape sucked, licked, and bit him so wonderfully. The dark hair brushed against Harry's chest as he moved to attack the other one and Harry knew he wouldn't survive long at this rate. "Fuck! Touch my cock!" 

Snape's mouth disappeared and Harry whimpered in protest. The smell of strawberries and spring filled the air and Harry squinted to see Snape dipping his fingers in the jar.

"Hurry up, I want to come," he demanded and spread his legs as best he could. 

Moving between Harry's legs, Snape pushed the right one to the side. The strange spells rippled through him and he shivered. He peered down at Snape, but he could only see black as a finger slid inside of him. Why wasn't the rest of him being touched?

"Touch me more! Kiss me again! he demanded as a second joined the first. They found that secret spot and he was beyond thought for a moment as they sent sparks into his limbs and made his cock weep in frustration. 

"I need more!" He writhed against his bonds as Snape slowly added a third finger. He was going to die if Snape didn't touch his cock!

After what seemed like ages, Snape finally pulled out his terrible fingers. His body advanced on Harry as he shifted over to release the bonds. Harry's hands immediately went down to grab his aching prick but Snape flipped him over and pulled him back up on his knees.

"No." He tried to wiggle away. "I don't like this way. It hurts."

Snape yanked the pillow over and pressed Harry down on top of it. Harry humped the bed until Snape pressed down on his arse so he couldn't move anymore.

"Nooo!" He protested, trying to roll back over onto his back. He hated this position. Snape couldn’t touch his cock or his nipples. "On my back. On my back," he insisted but then Snape had spread his arse cheeks and forced himself inside. 

Harry clutched the sheets as Snape's thick heat slowly spread him open and pressed in deep. It was so hot and it warmed up Harry’s insides as it filled him up. Snape's black clad arms appeared on either side of him as he drove himself in all of the way. He began to fuck Harry slowly, breathing like a dragon on Harry’s neck. Harry rose up against him, pressing back against his heat.

God, Snape was so fucking huge. He was twice dream-Ginny's size and seemed to fill every inch of his insides. Snape suddenly stopped and Harry wiggled desperately, trying to rescue his cock which was trapped between his belly and the bed.

"Move, damn you! Move! I need to come!" 

Snape obeyed and thrust harder and faster. It felt good, although he wasn't hitting the spot like last time. The teasing glances weren't enough and his cock was trapped all wrong. "Please, I can't come like this," he breathed, trying to push himself up on his hands.

Snape's body jerked and he gasped as he came. Harry sobbed in frustration; he was so close, yet so far. Finally, just when he thought Snape was going to hold him like that forever, Snape slowly pulled out and flipped him over. He swooped down on Harry like a bat; his hot mouth closing over a nipple as his fingers curled around Harry's much neglected prick.

Harry howled with pleasure and fucked Snape's fingers as all the heat in his body rushed to his prick and his balls tightened as they became so ready to burst, they were painful. Snape's teeth closed around Harry's swollen nipple and he shouted as he came, his cock a fountain of come that sprayed until all the liquid had drained from his body. His dick finally satiated, Harry turned on his side and pressed his back against Snape's body. Snape's arm remained over Harry’s hip and his heavy breaths warmed the back of Harry’s neck. Harry closed his eyes and tried to melt into his warmth. 

He wondered if it always felt like this after you orgasmed with another person. He felt so close to Snape, so connected as if there were an invisible bond that twined their lives together. Somehow, he knew Snape would protect him. He wondered if Snape felt the connection too. He desperately wanted to speak, but he was afraid Snape would move away if he did, so he held out as long as he could before talking.

"I liked the other position better."

Harry felt a stab of loss as Snape removed his hand and turned on his back. "So I gathered." He cleaned them both with Scourgify, then rebuttoned himself. 

"Wait." He knew Snape was about to leave but didn't want him to go. Rolling onto his other side, he pressed back against Snape who was sitting on the edge of the bed. He spoke softly so Snape would have to remain in bed to hear. "What d'you give me?"

"A mild aphrodisiac, a muscle relaxant, and a Muggle drug that is designed to increase enjoyment of tactile sensation and provide temporary euphoria." 

"Tactile?" Harry breathed in the smell of Snape's robes. 

"You enjoy touching things." Snape escaped from the bed and Harry lay in the warm spot left by his body. Stepping over to the table, Snape tapped it his wand, muttering under his breath. A drink appeared and he carried it over to the bed. He touched Harry’s arm to help him sit up and Harry pretended that his limbs were like cooked spaghetti so that Snape would be forced to put his arms around him as he propped Harry up against the wall.

"Drink this." He pressed the cup to Harry's lips. Harry reached out to take it, stroking Snape’s fingers with his own as he did so. It was orange juice. 

"More potions?" He drank it anyway. He trusted Snape.

"No, it helps to prevent adverse reactions." Snape stood up to leave.

"Was that time good?"

Snape's eyebrows drew in towards the black line between them. "Excuse me?"

"You said that we'd have to do it again if I messed up."

Snape shook his head and took the empty cup back from Harry. "No, it was satisfactory." He left and Harry watched him until he was out of sight.

[[ One of the things I hate most in fanfiction is when they create a very powerful spell or magical item, etc, but don’t properly explain why it wasn’t used in book/movie. I know some of you are probably thinking, ‘these cuffs seem too good to be true,’ and I want to assure you that there is more to it than what has been stated so far. ]] 


	13. Chapter 13

  
Author's notes: Harry’s hunting for the Horcruxes when he is captured by the Death Eaters and held as a prisoner/slave. Snape is positioned as his prison guard.  


* * *

Harry lay in bed until the sheets were cool again. Taking out his myth book, he carefully rolled up his letter, sure to make it as long and thin as possible. He practiced tying it in a loop until he was sure he could quickly tie it around the owl's leg. As he waited for dinner, he read the myth book.

Snape showed up on time, stepping through the bars and tapping the table in a hurried manner.

"More lessons?” Harry asked hopefully as he slid out of bed and sat down in his chair. The drugs appeared to have completely left his system and other than a sore throat and jaw, he felt fine. 

"No, lessons will be in the morning after breakfast." 

The way Snape had to control every little detail of Harry’s life infuriated him. He looked at his meal, which was composed of pork chops, mashed potatoes and gravy, mixed greens, with rice pudding for dessert, and crossed his arms. 

"I don’t like rice pudding," he told Snape. "I want that orange fruit."

"Eat what you are given, Potter." Snape stepped out through the bars. "This isn’t a restaurant."

Harry whirled to face him. "Why not? It isn’t hard to cut up fruit."

"I make whatever I desire to eat. If you do not wish to partake of my meals, then starve." He swirled to leave.

"Wait a minute..." Harry stopped him. "You cook? What about your house elves?"

"I told you, Potter," said Snape as if speaking to a small child, "I don’t have house elves."

"What? But you said-" Harry tried to remember.

"I certainly never said that I did," Snape stiffly insisted. "I don’t have any mangoes currently, anyway, so this whole conversation is pointless." And with that, he left in a dramatic swirl of black.

Snape had cooked all those meals? Harry poked his pork chops suspiciously. Who knew the git could cook. No wonder most of the meals had consisted of stews and soups. And who would've thought that the fruit would be mango? He’d had a mango-flavoured toffee before, but it hadn’t tasted anything like the slices Snape served. There was no point in refusing to eat now that he knew the secret behind the cooking. If Snape was planning to poison him, he would’ve done it already. Harry ate everything, then retired to his bed to read. He would be finished with the myth book in another day or two. Normally Snape would’ve given him another book to start on by now. This time, he was going to ask first. He took out the note and tucked it between the covers of Billy Budd.

Sleep came easily.

~

Harry dreamt that the Death Eaters couldn’t remember whose turn it was to torture him, so they all had mangos and ice cream in the throne room while Voldemort criticized their table manners.

"He hates mangos," Bellatrix confided as she licked her cone of chocolate mint which was smothered with whipped cream and nuts. 

"How could anyone hate mangos?" Harry wondered over his sundae that was a meter long and composed of every single flavour available.

Snape woke him when he entered. "Eat your breakfast, Potter." He strode out as Harry blinked sleepily after him. 

Harry stumbled over to his food, which was basically the same as the breakfast the day before. He ate the kippers first, chewing on them slowly while he waited to wake up. He’d ask Snape for another book after training since he seemed to be most agreeable then. As he was finishing his morning routine, Snape returned without the floating balls. 

Snape announced, "You will train in a different location today. Take off your clothes and follow me."

"Why do I have to take off my clothes?" Harry suspiciously glared at Snape.

"I can excuse letting you out of your cage. I can excuse giving you clothes. I cannot excuse both easily, and I desire to keep suspicion well away from me," explained Snape. "Besides, you might have to fight the Dark Lord in the nude."

Harry shuddered but did as Snape asked. "God, I hope not." He couldn’t imagine going before Voldemort with his most precious parts exposed. He covered them with his hands as Snape spelled the chain. 

"It is very important that you obey me when you are out of your cage." Snape led him through the library. "If the Dark Lord or any other Death Eaters visit, then I will hurt and humiliate you. You must play the submissive slave and occlude your mind completely. If you cannot do that convincingly, then I will not allow you to be anywhere other than your cage. Is that understood?" They reached the top of the stairs, and Snape walked towards the third door in the upstairs hallway, which Harry had never been through. 

"Yes, sir." He was too excited to see what was behind the third door to give Snape trouble.

Snape led him into a wide, long room that was half the size of the throne room. The floor was covered in a plush, dark brown carpet and the walls in a burgundy paint. With so much red in the house, perhaps Snape wished he'd ended up in Gryffindor? Furniture was scattered randomly throughout the room, an odd hodgepodge that looked as though Snape had collected pieces from many different rooms and arranged them in a nonsensical manner. The multicoloured balls floated gleefully in a corner, whizzing around in their tight space with excitement. The room reminded Harry of an obstacle course and he grinned.

Snape closed the door and flourished his wand, releasing Harry’s hands. The coloured balls zoomed around the room, taking up varied positions along the wall. Snape flicked his wand, and a red ball shot at Harry. Jumping easily out of the way, he ducked under a table as two greens flew at him. With his fuzzy vision, he could hardly keep track of the balls, which blended into the walls and the multicoloured furniture. Several balls smacked him in the beginning before he learned to view the furniture as possible shields, rather than mere obstacles. Then, the green balls made the furniture disappear if they hit against part of its surface. Harry got confused again in the open space, and Snape halted the exercise.

"Don’t focus on the colours, Potter," instructed Snape. "Pay more attention to the movements. The balls move in straight lines as spells do, so you should be anticipating their movements well before they reach you."

Harry plopped down on a couch as he caught his breath. "I can’t see anything. I need my glasses."

"You probably won’t have them when you face the Dark Lord." Snape strode to the centre of the room. He flicked his wand, and a blue ball began zooming around the walls. "You can see that, can’t you?"

"Yeah, but the others were moving too."

The rest of the balls began to dance along the walls. The blue one zoomed towards Harry with equal speed. Snape stopped it, and sent it back again, only to repeat the exercise. "Focus on how the movement shifts when the object approaches." He turned in a circle and a black ring about seven feet across appeared on the cleared carpet surrounding him. 

Snape moved back towards the wall. "Go stand in the centre of the circle."

Harry did so.

"Now, forget dodging. The balls will not enter the circle. Instead, you should point out each ball as soon as you notice it." 

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a yellow ball zoom towards him and he shouted, "There!" as he pointed.

More balls flew at him and he quickly learned to track their movements. The circle around him slowly widened, but he became used to scanning his eyes quickly around the walls as he moved his body around the circle. Snape stopped the exercise when the circle reached the walls. Harry was panting by that point.

"Do you need to rest?" Snape froze the balls against the wall.

Harry nodded. "I need to go to the loo." 

Snape led him to the one in his bedroom. "Leave the door open, Potter."

Harry scowled. How had Snape known he had planned to look through his cabinets as soon as the door was closed? He used the toilet, trying to see if there was anything interesting he could make out with his fuzzy eyes. Snape’s bathroom was devoid of anything but the basics. Even the toiletries were the same as Harry's own.

They returned to the practice room, and Snape chained Harry to the foot of a heavy couch, saying, "Wait here," as if Harry could do anything but. He returned shortly, a tray following behind him. Unchaining Harry's hands, and snatched a mug off of the tray before it rested on the floor in front of Harry. The tray had barely touched the floor when Harry snatched one of the sandwiches off of it and shoved it in his mouth. The work out had left him starving even with the huge breakfast. Not caring what Snape thought of his eating habits, Harry devoured everything.

Snape settled into a high backed chair and sipped his mug slowly, ignoring Harry. It was the first time he'd ever had anything to eat or drink in the prison, and it was strange to be reminded that he was human.

The odd feeling that he got whenever he had sex with Snape had left him. Even now, when he was being trained, he still wanted to kill Snape. He knew better than to try to act on it though, and pretended to be civil. The only time he stopped wanting to kill Snape was during after sex and it left him puzzled. 

"Does that potion you give me act as a love potion too?" 

"As you seem to be recovered from your infatuation with the table," said Snape in an amused voice, and Harry scowled at him. "I don't believe so." He paused, then asked, "Why do you ask?"

That made Harry suspect that the afterglow was a perfectly normal part of sex, and he didn’t want to appear the naïve virgin. "No reason, just wondering why it made me act like that." He finished his milk and set down his glass. 

"Perhaps it brings out latent paraphilic tendencies. I will endeavour to safeguard the table from unwelcome wanton displays in the future." Snape peered down at Harry over the rim of his mug.

Harry had no idea what the hell that meant, but he suspected Snape was making fun of him. He glared at Snape, who stood and dismissed the tray and the remaining dishes. 

"Shall we begin again?"

Snape repeated the last exercise, but Harry hadn’t forgotten so quickly, and it was way too easy for him now that he knew how to look. 

After a short while, Snape made a new circle of about twelve feet across. "It is important that you distinguish between spells that are approaching you and ones that will avoid you. I will send one of each colour across the room, and you will identify which colour would enter the circle and hit you if allowed to continue."

Four balls immediately zoomed towards him, and he tried to follow Snape’s instructions, but both the green and the blue seemed to be heading straight at him, one towards his head and the other towards his belly. He froze and Snape stopped them.

"Did you not see that the green would strike you?"

"The blue would too!"

"Not unless you grow a foot or jump." Snape whipped his wand and the blue shot over Harry’s head, missing by a considerable amount. The balls started coming from all different directions and he quickly learnt to judge their trajectories. He soon realised he seemed to think himself taller than he actually stood, and stopped dodging those that would pass above his head. As he practiced, the circle grew smaller, until it finally disappeared.

He was much better at dodging now that he had learned to predict the path of the balls. Unlike the bludgers, which zoomed randomly, the spell-like projectiles didn’t veer once set in motion. As long as there were only four, he was able to avoid most of them. Over four confused him, and he had the habit of running from one into the path of another. He practiced until his muscles were aching, and he tripped over an end table. Snape’s magic caught him and returned him to an upright position.

"That is enough for today." Snape vanished the balls with a flick of his wand. Harry had had his fill and didn’t object. If he kept at it with his current pace, he would need an entire day to rest. Now that he'd been allowed out of his cell, spending an entire day there sounded like pure torture. The more training he did, the quicker he could face Voldemort, but only if each of those sessions helped him. 

Snape spelled dinner for him and left. Harry dug into the stew. He was sure that by the time Snape finished training him, he’d be able to go up against a room full of Death Eaters and get out alive as long as they didn’t act in concert, and someone picked them off for him. Snape never said if he was going to help Harry in the final battle, so Harry had to assume that wasn't going to happen. Harry would have to focus on trying to kill Voldemort rather than besting all the Death Eaters. If he caught him by surprise, he’d probably be able to do it. He just needed a good wand and access to his magic. 

As he was climbing into bed, he suddenly realised that he had forgotten to ask Snape for a new book, and made a mental note to ask the next morning. He fell asleep quickly and slept soundly.

~

He woke before Snape arrived. He felt dirty since he hadn’t bathed after training the night before. A bath would probably help with how he smelt. Snape obviously agreed because he greeted Harry with, "You need a bath."

As Snape spelled the bars open, he said, "Leave your clothes on the bed and I will wash the entire set."

Harry really didn’t like being naked in front of Snape, but it seemed silly to object when he had spent most of the day before without clothes. Resolutely stripping, he covered himself as he walked out through the bars.

Snape did not follow him to the bathroom, and Harry decided to take a shower. For the first time since his imprisonment, he was really excited about the day. He had never been much of a scholar and, while reading books was better than doing nothing, reading would never be his favourite activity. He had been bored out of his skull. Not only did he love training, but he thought he had been pretty good at it. Snape hadn’t said anything either way, but Harry reckoned lack of insults or complaints meant that Snape couldn’t find fault with him. He had made several mistakes, but once Snape had shown him what to look for, he had picked up on it rather easily. Even if Snape was setting him up to fail, the training was making him stronger and more dangerous. 

But why was Snape training him? There were three reasons why Snape would train him. The first reason was that he was doing it on Voldemort’s orders. Voldemort might have told Snape to try to gain Harry’s trust. Harry doubted that because there were no other signs that Snape wanted his trust, and he couldn’t imagine why Voldemort would want him to think he had a friend. There was that rule that he couldn't be tortured unless Voldemort was there, but he doubted that was out of any desire to ease his suffering. If anything, Voldemort seemed disappointed that he couldn’t be around more often. Did they want something else from him? He couldn’t think of anything they couldn’t take with Legilimency. 

The second reason was that Snape was being truthful (for once) and did want Harry to defeat the Voldemort. There was a huge problem with that idea though. Why had Snape killed Dumbledore who could’ve helped defeat the extremely powerful wizard? Perhaps Snape changed his mind after returning to Voldemort, but that seemed unlikely. If Snape did want Voldemort destroyed, then why didn’t he just free Harry? Snape had to have the power to do it, after all, he was almost as powerful as Voldemort himself. Perhaps Harry had to be close to Voldemort in order to be able to kill him eventually. Voldemort did seem to regard him as nothing more than an amusing plaything, so he would probably not anticipate the attack. 

On the other hand, Harry would be better trained if he spent all of his time doing practicing instead of sneaking training sessions in here and there. If Harry was free, he’d also be able to develop plans with the other members of the Order, and together they’d give Voldemort one hell of a fight. Harry couldn’t figure out why Snape would keep him prisoner if he wanted to him to destroy Voldemort.

That fact led to the third scenario which was the most likely. Snape desired to become the next Dark Lord. That would explain why, when compared with other Death Eaters, Snape was being nice to him, why Snape was so insistent that he learn Occlumency, why he was training him in private, and why he had killed Dumbledore. Harry had to be careful. Snape probably planned to dispose of him once he killed Voldemort. He would have to defeat Voldemort, then immediately turn on Snape. Snape thought him stupid, but he could use that to his advantage. He would pretend that he thought Snape was helping him so that the Death Eater would never suspect he was onto him. 

Snape hadn’t brought back his clothes by the time Harry finished with his shower, so he wrapped himself in a towel and padded out into the hallway. Snape was no where in sight, so Harry tried to open the fourth door in the hallway. It was locked and he walked over to the library. 

As much as he wanted to make a run for it, the whole situation was too suspicious. Snape was far too clever to leave him alone on accident; this was probably a test. Harry wanted to keep him guessing. He decided to explore the library since he hadn’t been in the room before during his first escape attempt. Stealthily sneaking in, he slid along the left wall; curious to see what sort of books Snape kept in his possession. He had to lean in close to examine the titles, but didn’t recognise most of them. Several looked as though they were ancient, their tattered covers worn thin. 

The fireplace stood at the other end of the room from the. Across from the empty bricks rested a comfortable looking tan coloured couch. Two dark wood end tables perched on either side, and the one close to him held a smattering of books. Those were probably the ones Snape was reading currently. Harry approached curiously, noticing that one was set apart from the others: _Frankenstein_.

One Hallowe’en he'd been forced to stay with Mrs. Figg while the Dursleys went to a party. She'd fed him stale candy, and made him watch the old movies they had on the telly. Frankenstein had been one of the ones he had seen and he couldn’t remember much about it, except that it involved a monster that killed people. He was reaching out to grab the book when Snape snatched it away from him in a surprisingly fast flurry of black. Harry fell to the floor in shock. How the fuck had the Death Eater appeared in the room so fast? He hadn't heard the crack of Apparition. 

"What the?" He asked as Snape stuck the book on a very high shelf - way out of Harry's reach.

"You need to eat breakfast now. Return to your cage immediately." Snape, a wall of black anger, glowered down at Harry.

"Why can’t I read that book?" asked Harry as he pulled the towel back over himself and stood up.

"And allow you to shred it?" accused Snape, his voice angry. Harry suspected that wasn’t the true answer and to test it, he asked what he’d been wanting to ask for a while.

"Can I have another book if I promise not to damage it?" He followed Snape back to his cell and stepped through the bars. Breakfast was laid out for him on the table.

"Will you be able to live up to that promise?" Snape’s voice still had far too much anger in it warranted by such a benign activity as trying to pick up a book.

"Yes, I would never do it now that I know you will help me," Harry said with calm he did not feel. He had promised to not talk back to Snape in order to get training, but it seemed as if the Death Eater wanted him to get angry and yell so he would have an excuse not to do the training sessions. Harry wasn’t going to let him have that satisfaction.

"Very well." Snape’s body lost some of its tension. "However, you must promise me that you won’t destroy any more of my books. If you do, not only will I keep you from ever possessing one again, but I will lock you in the cupboard until you have sufficiently paid for the crime."

"Okay," agreed Harry as he ate a kipper. He had never been so excited to get a book in his life. "I’d like to read _Frankenstein_."

"No."

Ah-hah. So it was a special book. He couldn’t remember anything from the movie that would make Snape want to keep it from him. What sort of dark magic was hidden in its pages? "Why not?"

"Do not pester me, Potter, or I will change my mind. Why do you wish to read it anyway?" Snape stared at him sharply.

"I know it’s a book about a monster that kills people. I saw a movie about it once." He dug into his omelette. 

"If you wish to read a work of that genre, why don’t you read _Dracula_?" Snape’s pose relaxed. 

"They wrote a book about that too?"

Snape’s eyebrows moved in utter contempt. "I will bring it to you after your lessons."

Harry pushed back from the table, eager to begin. "I’m ready. Are we going upstairs again?"

"Yes." Snape stepped away from the bars.

Harry quickly took off his clothes and followed Snape up to the practice room, plotting ways to get his hands on _Frankenstein_. Snape’s attempts to keep him from it only made him desire it more. It would be difficult to steal it from under Snape’s huge nose, but he was sure he could do it if given enough time to plan.

The practice room was completely cleared of furniture this time and the coloured balls began to wiggle around the walls. 

"Remember what you learned last time." Snape flicked his wand, and three balls raced towards Harry, who immediately dodged out of the way. "Try to anticipate their paths and concern yourself only with those that will actually strike you."

Harry effortlessly dodged the volleys Snape sent at him. He had not forgotten the lessons from the previous day and, with no furniture to block his path, he was able to weave his way around the room without being hit even when four balls flew at him. The addition of a fifth made the task challenging, and he was almost hit a few times. His heart rate shot up, and his breath came quickly as he desperately tried to avoid being hit. Mercilessly, Snape added a sixth even though Harry had not mastered five, and suddenly Harry was pummelled every time. Snape stopped the exercise while Harry lay on the floor and tried to catch his breath. They had been at it for hours without a break and his failure to avoid being hit frustrated him. He had done so well the day before! He also couldn’t help but feel Snape was being a bit unfair. He had too many limbs to try to dodge six balls that shot at him from six different directions. 

Snape dismissed the balls to a corner. "You are moving away from each projectile with far more force and effort than necessary. There is no need to throw yourself across the room every time one comes within inches of you."

"Okay." Harry got to his feet. "Give me more."

“I must attend to my potions.” Snape tucked his wand back in his robes.

"Can I come?" Harry asked before he could stop himself. Brewing potions was certainly more interesting than hanging out in his cell, but he didn’t want to give Snape the impression that he enjoyed his company. He expected Snape to say ‘no’ and the Death Eater did not disappoint.

"No." Snape motioned for Harry to follow him. "The Dark Lord has asked me to keep you out of my lab."

It was a good enough excuse although Harry wasn’t sure he believed it. Snape Accio’d _Dracula_ as they passed through the library. 

After a bath and a delicious lunch of tune and grilled cheese sandwiches, Harry exercised until he was tired, then read _Dracula_. It was not nearly as exciting as the movie. Writers in the past loved to fill their pages with huge words and pointless details. He'd slogged through the first two chapters before he grew too bored to read anymore. Now that he had been given a taste of the world beyond his cell, he wanted more. He didn’t know how he managed to stay sane during the first weeks of his confinement when he had nothing to do but read or wank. 

The thought of masturbating made his prick twitch in eager excitement, but he was afraid that if he touched himself he’d think about one of those times in the bed with Snape. He hated the fact that he had been brought to orgasm. Twice! He wasn’t gay and didn’t like having sex with blokes at all. No way. Especially not as a _girl_. Shuddering, he pulled the covers up over him. His reaction had just been because of that potion Snape gave him. Snape had told him it contained an aphrodisiac, which explained why he had come. He’d even tried to have sex with a table! He hated the potion, and sometimes wished Snape wouldn’t give it to him so he wouldn’t come, but he knew the alternative was worse. He couldn’t stand having Snape look at him when he was naked much less touch him. The thought of Snape doing _that_ while he was fully aware of what was going on made him want to puke. He wished Snape would just knock him out completely, but Voldemort certainly wouldn’t enjoy that, the freak. 

Pushing all thoughts of sex, Snape and Voldemort to the side, he tried to sleep, but it was a long time in coming.


	14. Chapter 14

  
Author's notes: Harry is hunting for the Horcruxes when he is captured by the Death Eaters. Snape is positioned as his prison guard.  


* * *

Harry dreamt that Snape set up a huge obstacle course that led through the house. He ran through it, dodging curses and fighting Death Eaters. One door took him into Hogwarts, and then he was battling Dementors in the main hall. When he finally finished, he was out in the courtyard and all his friends were clapping for him.

"Congratulations, Harry!" Mr. Weasley enthusiastically shook his hand as cameras flashed. "You’ve become the next Dark Lord!"

"But I don’t want to be a Dark Lord!" Harry protested as a crowd surrounded him, the lights from the cameras blinding him.

"Of course you do, Harry." Hermione appeared beside him, Ron right behind her. They were both smiling. "Last year you wrote an essay about how fun dark magic was and how you planned to revolutionize the field."

"Wha-? I never-" 

Ron smacked him on the back. "I can’t believe you did it, mate! Voldemort couldn’t get past the Hinkypunks!"

"But really, Harry!" Hermione peered at the long scroll in her hands. Harry tried to read it, but the letters swam. "You must do better on your Unforgivables! You barely passed."

"Where’s Hagrid?" He needed to get away from them - they were all crazy.

"You killed him, of course." Ginny smiled at him brightly. "You have to cast the Killing Curse on someone before you can become a Dark Lord."

He screamed, "NO!" and he was sitting up in his bed in the cell. Snape stood on the other side of the bars, his eyebrows showing his frown. Harry fell back against his pillow and gasped for breath.

"Bad dream," he croaked out.

Snape stepped in through the bars and tapped the table. "About the Dark Lord?"

"I became him." Sliding out of bed, Harry stumbled over to the table.

"That is highly unlikely." Snape stepped back out through the bars.

Harry stared at his breakfast. His stomach felt twisted and the bacon, eggs, and sausage all looked far too greasy to try to eat. He spread strawberry jam on his toast and forced himself to take a bite. "I don’t know, sometimes I get so angry...."

"Your anger is justified; the problem is your inability to control it. You must not let it consume you. Channel it constructively and you will have nothing to fear." Snape strode away. "Eat everything.”

Harry ate slowly. He wasn’t sure he believed Snape, who seemed to dismiss his fears as though they were pointless. Ignoring the lump of ice growing in his stomach, Harry tried to focus on his meal. When he finished his breakfast he used the toilet and found a new item beside his mouthwash. Deodorant. It smelled a bit like Snape. 

When he was finished with his morning routine he undressed and sat on the edge of his bed. 

Snape arrived shortly, wordlessly opening the bars. Harry followed him to the practice room, first checking to make sure that the _Frankenstein_ book was still in the same place it had been last time. It was. He’d have to cause some sort of diversion that would get Snape to leave him in the library by himself for a few minutes. Then again, he’d have to find a way to get into the library. When he finished _Dracula_ , Harry planned to request to visit the library to read some of the titles. He felt that if he phrased it right, he could get Snape to agree to his request. Maybe if he did it while they were walking through the room Snape would be more likely to stop and let Harry explore the shelves. 

They arrived at the practice room which had been cleared of furniture again. 

"Stand in the centre." Snape scattered the balls around the room.

Harry did so, waiting eagerly.

Snape pointed his wand at Harry’s right foot. Half a golden ring appeared in the floor to the right of his foot. Snape did the same on Harry’s other side and a ring appeared to the left of his left foot. Harry was about to ask what they were for when suddenly, chains appeared connecting his wrist cuffs to the corresponding rings.

"Oi!" Harry hadn’t been tortured in a while. Was this a trap?

A yellow ball flew at him and he yelped, trying to dive out of its path. The chains bound him in place and he fell flat on his face. 

"Use as little movement as possible to avoid each projectile, Potter. There was no need to throw yourself on the floor when you could have simply shifted to the left," instructed Snape in an impatient manner.

Annoying git. Harry pulled himself to his feet. He hadn’t thrown himself on the floor on purpose. A red ball narrowly missed his head and he stumbled, but caught himself. Snape sent another yellow ball whizzing by, and he just barely managed to get out of the way in time. 

Only one ball was sent with each attack but Harry still did pretty poorly. Soon, he was on the floor more than standing, and he couldn't even dodge one.

Snape stopped the assault. "Breathe, Potter."

"I can’t do it!" He struggled back to his feet.

"’I can’t do it’ is not an excuse," said Snape coolly and Harry was about to yell at him in frustration when Snape continued, "Think about the point where you make the mistake. Why do you insist on moving so far to escape the balls?"

"They’re spells, aren’t they? I don’t want to be anywhere near the Killing Curse." He tugged ineffectually on his chains.

"I see." Snape tapped his wand against the palm of his hand. "I will train you with spells at a later date. For now, don’t think of them as such. Try to avoid them as if they were small bludgers." He sent a red one slowly towards Harry, who easily stepped out of the way. 

Snape retrieved it with a flick of his wand. "That wouldn’t have hit you if you had remained motionless. Stand completely still and don’t move."

He sent a yellow one towards Harry’s shoulder. Harry wanted to at least flinch away, but he held himself still and it passed over his shoulder. More flew at him, each passing him by, although he was sure they would hit him. Snape continued until he had completely outlined Harry’s body.

"Now that you have a general feel for the size and shape of your form, we will target specific areas and you will practice dodging. Remember, use small movements." Carefully targeting a single part of Harry's body, Snape sent a volley of balls, once right behind the other. Once Harry could correctly judge when a ball would hit him or not, he moved on to another limb. 

Now that he knew what to do, Harry picked it up quickly and it wasn’t long before Snape could shoot them at random, and he’d avoid the balls with little effort. The chains disappeared, but Harry kept himself mostly in place while he deftly dodged the projectiles. It made an amazing difference for his dodging and tracking skills. Previously, when he’d thrown himself out of the path of the balls he’d wasted energy and disoriented himself. He had never noticed before how he had made tracking difficult by throwing himself around. When Snape added a fifth ball, he was still calm and deftly avoided them. He had to move around the room, but he kept his movements tight and controlled. It was a bit like dancing, only he was much better at this dance than any other he had tried. 

The other balls zoomed throughout the room, shooting around as if he was in the middle of a huge fight with Death Eaters on one side and Order members on the other. He started to get confused when Snape’s voice floated across the room to him. "Focus only on those that are moving towards you. Ignore the rest. Move only with the effort you need and look before you leap."

Harry was far from perfect. He was hit many times and tripped over his feet twice, but he didn’t expend as much energy as he had before and only began to feel tired after they had been at it for many hours. Not wanting to quit while there were still lessons to be learnt, he only stopped when hunger took him. "I need to eat."

Snape nodded and sent the balls to their corner. "You have improved."

Harry grinned. That was a huge compliment coming from Snape. Proudly, he followed Snape back to the cellar. Rather than led him to his cell, Snape walked past the bars and went into the bathroom. Harry paused outside, wondering if the Death Eater was going to use it, even though he left the door open. 

"Come on in," commanded Snape. Harry trudged in. He hated bathing in front of Snape.

Snape opened his cabinet and pulled out a vial, which he set on the edge of the tub. Harry stared at it nervously. It was too soon for them to have sex, right?

"Your muscles will be giving you pain soon if they are not already. Each time after you bathe, rub this oil on the muscles you use the most during the lessons. I suggest you be sure to fully cover your legs if nothing else. After you put it on, let it soak in for a bit before putting on your clothes. Do not lie on your bed while it is on your skin – it will stain the sheets. Do you understand?”

"Yeah, rub it on my muscles, leave it on for some time, and don’t touch it to my clothes or sheets." Harry nodded.

Snape nodded and moved towards him on his way out. Harry quickly jumped into the tub to avoid being touched by his robes. Snape ignored him as he left, leaving the door open. Harry was tempted to go close it, but that might make Snape come and stay in the room. He turned on the shower and washed himself off. 

Snape was a surprisingly good teacher. When Snape first mentioned the lessons, Harry'd expected to be sneered at or given detentions (although he couldn’t imagine how he would serve them). It was nothing at all like their miserable Occlumency lessons. Snape had been a right git then. He probably wanted to be an arsehole to Harry now but couldn’t find much fault. Harry was a million times better at dodging than keeping his thoughts secret. 

After rubbing the warm, tingling potion into his legs, Harry approached the sink to wash his hands. Staring into the mirror, he realised with a start that his hair had been cut, despite the fact that he had no memory of ever having it cut. Snape must've cut it while he slept. Even stranger was his lack of facial hair. He hadn't shaved since entering the prison. Had Snape shaved that too? Creepy. 

Wrapping his towel around his waist, Harry returned to his cell where lunch awaited him. 

"Can we train again after lunch? I was so bored yesterday."

"I do not exist to amuse you, Potter." Snape’s voice was full of annoyance and Harry wanted to punch his nose back into his skull. "Tomorrow we will train all day if you are feeling up to it." He turned on his heel, and left in a fury of black cloth.

Feeling up to it? Harry suspected that meant that he was going to be tortured tonight. He slowly approached his chair and stared morosely at his shepherd’s pie. Who was going to have the ‘privilege’ of torturing him tonight? Trying to put it from his mind, he dragged the _Dracula_ book over and read while he ate. There was a very hot passage where three female vampires seduced the male hero and his cock rose to life as he pictured the scene.

He was lying on a couch when a beautiful blonde female vampire began licking and kissing his neck while a brunette moved between his legs. He turned back to the book to see what happened . . . of course; Dracula interrupted the scene and gave a little speech that sounded very gay to Harry. _This man belongs to me_! He also spoke of love for the male hero. Was everyone bisexual back then?

When he pictured Dracula in his mind, he thought of Snape. They were both old, ugly, gay, lived in dark places, dressed in black clothing, liked killing people, and kept young men as their prisoners. Snape would be just as hard to kill as Dracula was.

The hero’s escape from the evil clutches of Dracula cheered Harry up. While the book wasn’t quite as action packed as he had hoped, it had gotten better as it progressed and he was eagerly awaiting the day when Dracula was destroyed.

He was still reading when Snape arrived that evening. That meant either food or torture.

The order came, "Strip," and Harry knew it was the latter. He undressed, dropping his clothes on the floor and walked to the bars, putting his hands through. Snape spelled the chain and led Harry to be hurt. 

Voldemort and Avery were standing on the dais. Avery glared at Snape and Harry’s guts twisted painfully. It wasn’t Avery’s turn, was it? He was pretty sure that the Death Eater wasn’t allowed to rape him, but he could do other things. 

Snape grabbed the chain between Harry’s cuffs and hoisted him up on his tiptoes, chaining him to the ceiling. Voldemort took his chair, his greedy eyes glittering as he watched. Snape murmured something behind him. A crack rang through the room and then a line of pain shot across Harry’s shoulders.

Snape was whipping him. Harry gritted his teeth and closed his eyes as he tried to focus on his thoughts rather than the pain. The lash fell steadily and rocked him forward with each stroke. He forced memories of his last whipping to the forefront of his mind. He would win this game, never would Voldemort see what he and Snape were planning.

It seemed as though he hung there for hours. He allowed himself to cry out and beg as time went on. It seemed like such a loss of control the first time he had begged, but he understood now that he had control over his reactions. He was telling them what they wanted to hear, but he had made the choice to give it to them and thus robbed them of the pleasure of it. Only he knew what he thought in his head. Let them think of him as a mouse. When he would finally strike at them, they wouldn’t know what hit them.

Finally, when he was slipping on his blood, Voldemort commanded Snape to stop. Snape released Harry’s wrists and he fell to the floor, his back protesting as his cuts pulled open at the movement. Snape’s fingers closed around Harry’s upper arm and he was yanked to his feet and dragged from the throne room. In the hallway Snape sneered, “You will get blood all over the carpet,” as if Harry had gotten himself whipped on purpose just to annoy him. Snape slid out of his robe and wrapped it around Harry’s body. The fabric wasn’t very soft, but he enjoyed being covered. Then Snape shocked him by picking him up and carrying him down to his cell. He placed Harry face down on his bed, delicately retrieving his own robe as he did so. He poured a potion down Harry’s throat, then stepped back to admire his work.

"Stay on your stomach. I will heal those later." Snape disappeared and Harry slept.

~

When he awoke, his torso was bandaged and food rested on the table. Moving gingerly in case his wounds hadn't yet healed, Harry approached his breakfast which was porridge with its myriad of sides. It was still warm which suggested Snape had placed it there relatively recently. He wanted to practice, but he wasn’t sure if his back could handle it. Maybe if he just dodged a few at a time he’d be fine.

He was brushing his teeth when Snape arrived. 

"When you finish, lay down on the bed so that I may examine your back."

Harry nodded, rinsed his mouth, used his mouthwash, then lay on his stomach. Snape approached and Harry felt the bandages open as the wand slid down his back. Snape peeled away the layers from Harry’s flesh and pressed his cold fingers on the skin, examining the wounds closely. Harry wasn't concerned about them. Snape had healed worse.

"Kneel on the edge of the bed facing inward. I’ll need to wash your back."

Harry carefully did so, taking what remained of the bandages and tossing them to the floor. He didn’t feel any pain, but he knew that he was drugged and did not want to aggravate his injuries. Snape returned after wetting the cloth and gently ran it over Harry’s back, spreading warmth throughout Harry's skin. When he was finished, he carefully rubbed some sort of lotion over the scars. His fingers moved methodically, slowly working the potion into every inch of Harry’s back. It was a very relaxing back rub, and Harry wanted to lie down and fall asleep even though he had just woken up. 

"Stand so that I may replace your bandages." 

Harry stood like a cross with his arms outstretched. Snape quickly passed a fresh roll around his torso and then secured it in the back.

Suspecting he would leave soon, Harry made his request. "I’d like to practice today."

"You are drugged to not feel any pain so-"

He interrupted, "I know, but I promise to be gentle. Can’t you just send a few balls at me at a time and I will practice being as still as possible?"

There was a pause, then Snape cleared the dishes and transported the table and chairs outside of the cell, and Harry knew he'd get his wish. "Wait here." He strode out.

Harry eagerly sat back on his bed. 

Snape returned with five balls. He divided them into two groups. "Stand in the centre of the room."

Harry obeyed and the groups took turns zooming at him. He practised moving his body only ever so slightly with each attack. The bandages made him unable to move his torso much, but he learned how to dodge quite effectively.

"Practise holding your arm out before you as if you were casting a spell on me," Snape suggested, and it was quite easy for Harry to imagine himself casting hexes on the Death Eater as more projectiles were cast his way. 

He was surprised at how steady he managed to hold his arm. Just a few days ago he would’ve been diving all over the place and his wand would’ve ended up aimed at all sorts of random things rather than his target. Now he could point the imaginary wand directly at Snape’s chest while he weaved to avoid the balls. 

Snape stopped the exercise after only a few hours. Harry wanted more, but he doubted Snape would give it to him, so he lowered his wand hand and stepped back towards the bed. 

"You should be improved enough to have a longer training session tomorrow, although we will still avoid anything strenuous until your wounds have healed." Snape sent the balls away through the library.

"Right." Harry settled himself on top of the covers. 

Snape stayed at the bars as if he were going to speak. Harry watched him curiously, but the Death Eater just turned and strode away. 

Harry read _Dracula_ until he was so bored he couldn’t stand to look at the pages anymore. How had he ever lasted before training? He was feeling hungry and expected lunch soon, so he sat where he’d have the best view of the library door and leaned against the bars. 

When Snape opened the library door, he announced, "I’m so bored."

"Did you finish _Dracula_?" Snape stepped through the bars and headed to the table.

"No, but if I read too long my eyes hurt. Please, I want something to do. I’ll even do chores!" Getting to his feet, he joined Snape at the table.

"I suppose you could scrub your blood off of the throne room floor."

"Okay," agreed Harry, eager to do anything that involved him being out of his cell. He sat down and dug into his turkey sandwich. 

From the way Snape's eyebrows shot up, he hadn't expected that reaction. After a pause he said, "It has already been removed. I suppose there is an exercise I could begin today, although you must swear that you will stay on your bed and move no more than necessary."

"I will, sir." Harry agreed. 

Snape left, returning shortly with the coloured balls and a long, thin, cylindrical black object about half the size of a wand. He stepped through the bars and placed the object on the table. Putting down his pumpkin juice, Harry examined the object, finding a single button on the side. When he pressed it, a thin red beam shot out of the tip. A laser pointer. 

"It moves faster than a spell ever would, but you can practice aiming with it. You will have to learn to aim by tracking movements since it is unlikely you will be given glasses." Snape spelled the balls to spread out along the back wall of Harry’s room and dance around the hallway. "You can cheat and leave the laser on, but I suggest that you only click the button when you think you will hit a target. I will spell the balls to move randomly and you must remain on your bed. If you step off the bed at any time I will halt the exercise. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir." He finished his juice and then returned to his bed, holding the laser pointer in his hands. 

Snape waved his wand and the balls zoomed around the room. Without a glance at Harry, he left. Harry suspected that if he put even a toe on the floor Snape would return, so he stayed on his bed and tried to target the dancing balls. It was difficult for him to focus on one, since they moved randomly and intermingled with each other. The Snitch had been the only thing on the field. He concentrated on waiting for the balls to approach a spot he picked out on the wall, then targeting them one by one. When he hit one with the laser, it would fall to the ground. Once he had managed to get one third of them on the floor, targeting the ones which remained became easier. 

It took him hours to target them all and by the time he was chasing the last one, Snape arrived for dinner. Harry shot it off the far wall as Snape stepped through the bars. 

"I did it!" Harry grinned at Snape. "They move as quickly as Snitches but I still got them!"

"That was faster than I expected," admitted Snape as he spelled food on the table and Harry was full of pride as he sat down to eat his chicken. "Next time I will spell them all black."

"I’ll still get them." Harry confidently announced with a mouth full of chicken.

"Don’t speak with your mouth full," sighed Snape as he stepped out through the bars. He paused and turned back towards Harry. "We must perform for the Dark Lord before the next visit. Would you prefer tonight or tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," answered Harry immediately. He didn’t want anything to destroy his high. Snape nodded and strode off. Harry quickly finished his dinner and crawled into his bed to read _Dracula_ until he fell asleep.


	15. Chapter 15

  
Author's notes: Harry is hunting for the Horcruxes when he is captured by the Death Eaters and held prisoner. Snape is positioned as his prison guard.  


* * *

Harry was reading in his bed when Snape approached him. Suddenly, Snape suddenly swooped down on him and started licking his neck. "I knew you were a vampire!" Harry yelled and kicked, but it was hopeless and soon Snape was drinking his blood. When Snape had his fill, he pressed his wrist against Harry’s mouth. "Drink or you’ll die." Harry drank and turned into a vampire as well. "Let’s fly away from here," said Snape as he turned into a bat. Harry turned into a bat too, and they flew out of the house. They flew until they reached an old castle in the middle of farm lands. Snape transformed back into his human form and Harry did the same. "We will feast here." Snape grinned. "I’m not eating cows," insisted Harry. "No, only virgins," agreed Snape. "I’ll show you what to do." He led Harry to a room where a beautiful blonde woman was laid out on a bed. Snape unbuttoned her shirt, pulling the flimsy cloth to the side and exposing her perfect breasts. Hardening as he watched, Harry licked his lips as Snape bent down to suck a nipple into his mouth. The black eyes remained fixed on Harry as he teased the small nub. Harry approached and mimicked Snape’s actions on the other breast, trying to replicate the Potion Master as best he could. Snape raised his head. "Watch, Harry." Harry stared in fascination as Snape’s fangs pierced the woman’s areola and he drank, pleasure flowing through his face. Lifting his head, blood dripping from his mouth, he pulled Harry against him. Harry eagerly opened his mouth as Snape’s tongue invaded it, pushing blood down his throat. The woman tasted so delicious, and he sucked on Snape’s tongue, darted his own inside Snape’s mouth as he tried to lick up every last drop. "Take her, Harry," commanded Snape, his voice electric. He pushed up the woman’s dress, revealing the blonde curls of her public hair and her pink opening, which was slightly parted. Harry bent his head and pressed his open lips against her inner thigh. He penetrated her skin with his fangs and drank slowly, the blood sickly sweet in his mouth. It felt so good and he drank harder as his penis pulsed in rhythm with her dying heart. The last beat was heavy and he came. He awoke with his heart pounding and a sticky mess in his bottoms. Fuck. Snape was still showing up in his straight sex dreams! At least the part with the woman had been hot. When his heart rate and breathing had returned to normal, he slid out of bed and cleaned his bottoms. He set them over a chair to dry and returned to his bed to read another chapter of Dracula. He was halfway through it when Snape showed up. "You forgot to change my bandages last night," Harry reminded him as he put his book down. "I didn't forget," said Snape as he strode over and ran his wand down Harry’s torso, cutting the bandages open. He was so close, with his mouth so near to Harry's. The memory of the dream returned and with it, the recollection of the kiss and how Snape's mouth had worked the woman's breast. His cock twitched with eagerness and he turned away, not wanting to be hard in front of Snape. Thankfully, his prick deflated quickly. Snape, his hands brushing Harry's back as he examined the scars, didn't seem to notice. "They are almost healed," Snape informed him as he rubbed something into Harry’s back. "Keep your jumper off for the rest of the day and they should be completely gone by tomorrow unless you exacerbate them." He finished and stepped over to wash his hands in the sink as Harry pulled the top sheet around his lower body and sat at the table. Once he’d finished washing his hands, Snape fetched Harry’s breakfast, which included a bowl of mango slices. "I love these things!" He snatched one up and stuffed it in his mouth. "So I noticed," said Snape dryly. Moving over to the sink, Snape examined Harry’s toiletries, making sure they were all decently filled. "What are we working on today?" Harry asked when he finished his slice. "In the interests of preventing you from stressing your muscles, we will first begin with the same exercise as late yesterday." Snape summoned the balls to the hallway, only they all were black this time. Eager to begin, Harry tried to stuff a whole sausage in his mouth. "Slow down." Snape sat in the other chair, sending Harry's bottoms to the bed. "You won't be able to fight anyone if you choke to death." "You wouldn't give me first aid?" "If you were so inept as to accidentally kill yourself during such an effortless enterprise, I'd be forced to deduce that the chance of you actually conquering the Dark Lord would be minimal, and I'd have to retire to Australia." Harry tried to think of Snape on a beach and imagined the Death Eater lying on a towel in full robes wearing sunglasses. The mental picture was so comical that he started choking on his juice. Snape frowned at him and he barely managed to recover on his own. After Harry had calmed himself and finished his breakfast, he hurried to get ready to train. The balls shared his excitement, zooming eagerly around the room. Once Snape finished clearing the table and spelling the exercise, he left, and Harry aimed the laser at the retreating figure, imagining that he was casting curses on him. Once he was gone, Harry's attention was drawn to the wiggling black dots and he set about picking them off one by one. It took him about the same amount of time as his practice the day before had. He had gotten better about targeting, but the lack of colours left him confused. He had two more to go when Snape showed up for lunch. Snape watched him track and target them, finally knocking them both to the ground. "It's a good thing the Death Eaters are much bigger than these things." said Harry as he put his bottoms back on. "Robes obscure the shape of our bodies, making it difficult to target us. You should concentrate on aiming for the face or a specific spot on the torso. We will practise that later." Snape stepped into the cell and tapped the table with his wand. Harry hurried over to his lunch. Snape, as he sent all the balls into the corner of the room, took the chair opposite Harry. "What do you think of Dracula?" "It started off really slow but it's gotten better." Harry drank some of the strange soup. "I wish it had more action scenes. I like the parts where the vampires drink blood." "The person who introduced me to this work liked it, but also complained about the inherent sexism." Snape pressed his wand against the table and a mug appeared. "Sounds like something a girl would say." "She was." Snape's eyebrows headed towards the black line in a measure of dissatisfaction. Harry had no idea why his comment would've displeased Snape. "But I guess I can see why she would say that," mused Harry as he finished his soup. "The women in the story seem to only care about getting married." Snape's eyebrows relaxed. "Yes, you will also notice that the women tend to be either virginal and wholesome or sexual and monstrous." Harry felt his face heat up as he remembered the three vampire women and the strange dream he'd had. Snape stood. "Shall we practise?" "Yes!" Harry pushed back his chair eagerly. Snape stepped out through the bars and removed the table and chairs. "Try to stay towards the centre of the room." "Yes, sir." Harry watched as the balls swirled around on the walls. Two came at him and he casually twisted to the side. Three zoomed in from another direction and a mild side step easily avoided them. Slowly, Snape increased the amount of balls attacking him until five were flying through the air and he kept being hit. As they were taking a break, he joked, "I think if more than four attack me at once I am going to just see what spell is the weakest and jump in front of it." Snape frowned at him in disapproval. "You would not wish to step in front of any of the spells they will cast at you." "I know." Sighing, Harry moved back to stand in the centre of the room. Snape bombarded him again almost immediately, and he quickly fell back into defence mode as he managed to avoid all five with a simple side step and bend of his spine. Snape kept the balls in groups of fives but sent them faster and faster until Harry was reacting rather than thinking. If he tried to consciously track the projectiles he often ended up on the floor or being hit by several balls at once. However, when he stopped trying to think about the paths and just started reacting, he was actually pretty good at avoiding the projectiles. He weaved and twisted, concentrating on minimizing his movements as he effortlessly dodged each round sent towards him. Snape stopped the exercise, and Harry sat down as he tried to catch his breath. "I think as long as we get all the Death Eaters to shoot spells at you as fast as they can, you won't have a problem." Snape sent the balls away and opened the bars for Harry. "I've always been better at reacting than thinking." Harry stepped through them and headed to the bathroom. "So I've noticed." Harry was peeling off his bottoms when he suddenly thought of something. "Wait a minute! I thought you said I had to practise naked since I'll probably go up against Voldemort without clothes. Why didn't you make me undress this time?" "Although I will mostly train you in the nude since that is the state you will most likely be in, I also want to make sure you know how to dodge and fight when partially and fully dressed," explained Snape. "I also was curious to see if wearing trousers improved or impacted your ability to dodge." "Did it?" Harry poured bubble bath into his water. "At first it helped you a little bit." Snape walked over to sit in his chair. "I theorize the difference was due to a more relaxed mental state than any property of the garment." "The jumper will probably slow me down," mused Harry as he scrubbed his arms. "I concur," said Snape. "I will find another shirt for you. You must be prepared to do battle at any moment." "As long as I am not drugged out of my skull," agreed Harry as he shampooed his hair. “That will be difficult to circumvent," muttered Snape as he stroked his mouth. Finally he spoke, "If I should be removed from my position for any reason, you must train as best you can. At the very least, keep your leg muscles strong." Harry nodded. "I will." He ducked down under the water to rinse off his hair. He doubted he’d be able to do much of anything if Snape was replaced by another Death Eater, but he tried not to think about that possibility. Finishing his bath, Harry dried himself off. Snape had left the bathroom and Harry put on the lotion for his muscles in peace. After a few minutes, he pulled on his bottoms and stepped out to see where Snape had gone off to, and found him summoning food on the table. "So what's the plan?" Harry plopped himself down in his chair and stirred his stew. "You are going to bring me before Voldemort, and give me back my magic. I kill Voldemort, then finish off the Death Eaters." And then you finish off me, Harry added in his head. "Is that it?" Snape summoned tea for himself. "Just know that your primary objective will be to destroy the Dark Lord." "I don't understand how I will beat him without a wand though. We can't test out wands ahead of time because you won't give me back my magic before then. So how am I going to kill him with my bare hands?" "Let me worry about that," answered Snape simply. "Focus on your training now. You should be concerned only with improving your skills." "Why don't you just arrange it so that it's only me, Voldemort, and a few other Death Eaters rather than having me worry about a whole army of them? Or are you just training me to fight all of them just in case I have to?" "Contrary to what most people believe, it is actually easier to fight a larger group of enemies than a smaller one if you know what you are doing; especially if you are fighting against a group like the Death Eaters who will have no qualms about aiming at their companions if they believe it will destroy you. Your strategy should be to get as close as you can to a particular Death Eater and have the others' spells hit him." "Get close to another Death Eater?" asked Harry incredulously. That sounded like a horrible plan. It was nearly impossible to dodge spells shot at a close range. "Yes, but you must do it in a way that doesn't reveal your intentions. We will work on that later. For now, concentrate on dodging and aiming." Snape finished the tea and sent his cup away. Harry nodded and finished off his stew. He wasn't sure he had the skills necessary to pull off what Snape was planning. It was hard enough time dodging spells that were sent to him from a considerable distance. However, the idea of making the Death Eaters destroy each other really appealed to him. He wasn't sure if he could kill anyone but Voldemort, Lucius, Avery, and Snape even after what had been done to him. When Harry finished his dinner, Snape sent the dishes away. He stood and took the hated vial from his robes, placing it on the table before Harry. "If you'd like, I can step outside the cage until you are ready again." "Yeah." Harry nodded numbly. He had forgotten that he'd pushed this off until today. Not wanting to embarrass himself with the table as he had before, he climbed into his bed and drank the potion quickly. It didn't take long to kick in. The bed sheets felt amazing against his bare back as he wiggled against them. He petted the covers, delighting in the way they felt against his skin. All the heat in his body shot to his groin and his nipples hardened. He touched them and it felt good, but not nearly as amazing as when Snape did it. Why was Snape all the way over there instead of touching him? "Touch me," pleaded Harry. Snape obeyed, stepping through the bars and approaching the bed. Harry crawled across the covers to greet him. He grabbed the front of Snape's robes and yanked him forward, trying to pull him down on top of him. A bedpost got in the way and Snape hissed in irritation as he was knocked against it. Snape growled, "Potter," and the depth of his voice sent shivers down Harry's spine. "Must I always tie you up?" He pulled Harry to the head of the bed. Harry lay on his back and tried to pull him down on top of him, but Snape pushed his hands up above his head and chained him. Harry was not worried that Snape was going to leave. He'd stay until Harry was finished. Harry tried to wiggle out of his bottoms. He wanted Snape to touch him between his legs. "Stop squirming," ordered Snape as he undid the drawstring on Harry's bottoms and swiftly revealed Harry's most favoured part. Crawling farther onto the bed, Snape hooked his legs over Harry's to pin them down. He bent his head, his soft hair falling over his face and brushing Harry's chest as he took Harry's right nipple into his sinful mouth. It was so fucking good. Crying out in pleasure, Harry tried to thrust up his hips and Snape's mouth worked magic on his nipple. Suddenly, he remembered his dream where Snape turned him into a vampire. "Don't drink my blood," he insisted. "I won't," promised Snape. "I'm not a virgin." "I'm aware of that fact." Snape’s voice was warm like honey as he moved over to tease the other nub. His fingers wandered up over Harry's arms and Harry pressed against them as they worked their way down his sides. He wanted to see Snape's eyes, but Snape hadn't given them to him except for the very first time. "Lower! Lower!" cried Harry when Snape's fingers danced over his belly and hips, moving in slow circles that went everywhere except where they were most needed. "Fuck! I need you to touch my cock." Snape disobeyed and sat up. Strawberries filled the room and Harry knew what was coming. He had figured out this game. First, came fingers, then cock, then he got to orgasm. Spreading his legs as wide as he could with one trapped beneath Snape, he eagerly watched as Snape's hand moved from the jar to between his legs. The spells were cast and then Snape had a finger inside of him. Harry thrust back against it. This part always took too long and he wanted to skip ahead. "Just stick it in!" Snape ignored him and added a second and then a third while Harry tried to get him to go faster. After what seemed like an eternity, Snape finally released Harry’s hands. Harry scrambled to sit up and launched himself at Snape as soon as he was on his knees. He pressed his mouth against Snape's, remembering how good of a kisser he was in that dream. Snape had apparently forgotten how to kiss because his mouth stayed closed and his eyes open, staring at Harry. Harry lost himself in the darkness of Snape's eyes for a second. He caught himself and then helpfully whispered, "You have to open your mouth." Snape instantly shut his eyes. Wanting to stare at the blackness, Harry made a noise of protest, but then Snape was kissing him and he forgot everything but the taste of the tongue invading him. He sucked on it eagerly, wrapping his arms around Snape’s shoulders as he tried to taste every part of Snape's mouth. Snape broke the kiss far too soon and turned Harry around to face the wall. He grabbed Harry's wrists and pressed them above his head. Harry hated it. The position reminded him of being whipped. It had been good the first time, but now he wanted to lie on his back. "No, no." He twisted, trying to get away. He hated it when Snape whipped him. Snape spelled the chains. "I'm not going to whip you. Relax." "No, not this!" Snape released him and laid him on the bed. Happy, Harry rolled onto his back and wrapped his legs around Snape's waist. "Look at me," he requested. "No." Snape removed Harry's legs from his waist and rolled him onto his stomach. "No, not this one!" Harry hated this position too and tried to flip back over onto his back. Snape held him steady and Harry heard the pop of buttons. "No! On my back!" he insisted. Snape didn't listen, but pressed into Harry instead, spreading him open. It didn't hurt, but Harry whimpered at having his wishes ignored. He couldn't come like this. Then, after Snape had his whole, hard, heat stuffed inside, he slid one hand under Harry's chest and turned them so they both were on their sides, Harry pressed up against Snape's chest. Long fingers curled around Harry's hip and when he thrust - a long slow slide - he held Harry in place, warm and secure in his arms. Harry loved being held during sex. The pace was horribly slow and the angle all wrong, but he could feel Snape's heat even through his thick clothes. Snape's breath tickled the hair near his ear. Harry melted back into the embrace, feeling incredibly content and loved. He moved his right hand to reach back and clutch Snape's robes while his left stroked the hand pressed flat against his chest. It seemed a bit unfair to him that Snape got to caress him all over but he never got to touch any part of Snape other than his hands and face. He was about to request that Snape take off his clothes when the fingers on his hip journeyed down to wrap around his needful prick. Harry gasped in pleasure and thrust eagerly into Snape's hand. Fuck! "Yes! Yes! Fuck, yes!" He jerked his hips as much as he could as he closed his eyes and concentrated on the building sensation in his balls. Snape's left hand shifted to capture Harry's right nipple between his fingers and he mercilessly teased the sensitive hardness as his prick brushed faster against that spot inside that made pleasure surge through Harry's body. It was too much and soon Harry was coming, his dick spurting furiously, as his whole body jerked like a fish out of water. Snape was still hard, and he carefully pulled out of Harry, then rolled him onto his stomach, pushing his knees forward and pulling him up on his hands. It was exactly the same as that terrible first time. Normally, Harry would've strongly objected to the position, but he was so relaxed after his orgasm and Snape was still hugging him tightly. When Snape pushed in again, it wasn't anything like it was in the throne room. No pain, only pleasure, even when Snape's hips jerked faster and he fucked Harry hard. The pace grew faster and harder and the sex was so much better this way than any other. Harry's cock, so recently satisfied, rose again with interest as Snape hit that spot inside of him that made him see stars when it was done correctly. It was over far too soon, Snape's hips jerking quickly as he closed his mouth on the base of Harry's neck, biting the skin lightly. When his body had stopped shaking, Snape gently pulled out of Harry and lay down on the bed beside him, resting on his side. Upset by the lack of contact, Harry pressed himself against Snape again, burying his head in the Death Eater's robes as he smelled Snape's scent. Snape was stiff as a board when Harry first pressed against him but after a while, he slowly relaxed and very tentatively put his hand on the small of Harry's back. Listening to Snape's rapid heartbeat, Harry curled his fingers in Snape s robes. He felt so relaxed. If Voldemort had shown up right then and there he would've told him to fuck off. "I don't think he'd appreciate that." Snape's voice was honey again. Harry couldn't decide if he liked the honey or thunder more. Harry mumbled into Snape’s chest, "I'm going to stay here forever." "I'm sure the call of nature will propel you out of bed eventually." Snape's fingers slowly stroked Harry's lower spine. He closed his eyes and lost himself in the path of the cool digits for a minute. "No one's ever held me like you do," admitted Harry and the fingers stilled. "Maybe my parents but I don't remember. Hermione was the first person who hugged me and I thought it was very strange." Snape’s body had gone stiff again and Harry didn’t like it. Had he said something wrong? He pulled back his head and looked up at Snape’s face. Snape had his eyes tightly closed as though he were in pain. "Snape?" "You should sleep." Snape pushed Harry away and placed his feet on the floor as he adjusted his clothing. "I want you to stay here." Harry pouted. He couldn't understand where things went wrong. "No, you don't." Snape stood, his back to Harry. "The drugs make you temporarily more agreeable to anyone or anything, but you will return to yourself once they wear off. Sleep now, we will train tomorrow." He left without looking back. Harry fell back against the sheets, feeling disappointed. He pulled the covers over himself and fell asleep shortly. [[I was inspired by literary criticism of Dracula to write this dream sequence. You can find one of the pieces [here](http://www.thirdspace.ca/articles/olson.htm).]] 


	16. Chapter 16

  
Author's notes: Harry's hunting for the Horcruxes when he is captured by the Death Eaters and held as their prisoner. Snape is positioned as his prison guard.  


* * *

He felt dirty when he woke. Snape had forgotten to cast Scourgify before he left, and Harry still smelled of sex. Rolling out of bed, Harry made his way over to the sink and cleaned himself off as best he could, trying to replace the smell of sex and Snape with soap. When he finished cleaning his body, he tore all the covers off the top mattress and threw them on the floor in a pile. Luckily, the mattress did not smell of sex. Harry tried to read _Dracula_ but he couldn't concentrate. He kept thinking of the embarrassing things he had said that night before. Augh! Snape probably thought he was a freak. He blamed the drug and hoped that Snape wouldn't bring it up. Maybe he could get Snape to try the drug too so he wouldn't be the only one making a fool of himself. It was probably a very dangerous drug too. Anything that made him _kiss and snuggle Snape_ had to be highly illegal. Snape had said that he had used a Muggle drug in his recipe. Harry had always been warned in primary school about the dangers of doing drugs and now he knew why. He dressed and then distracted himself by reading _Dracula_ until Snape arrived. "If I don't have any magic, how come I can use Occlumency?" Harry had figured the best defence was a good offensive. If he brought up a different subject from the start, Snape couldn't bring up last night. Snape stepped through the bars. "Even Muggles can use Occlumency - it is just a matter of controlling your emotions." That statement made Harry frown deeply. He didn't think he had very good control over his own emotions since his anger often ran away with him. He told Snape that as Snape tapped the table with his wand. "I know," agreed Snape, "that's why I was so suspicious of your claim. However, whenever I have tested you before the Dark Lord you have performed perfectly. Based on how well you dodged last night when I increased the pace of the projectiles, I suspect that you perform best under stress." Snape pushed into Harry's mind and it was so unexpected and unnecessary that Harry couldn’t defend himself properly, and Snape watched several of his memories before Harry finally threw him back out. "What the hell was that for!?" Harry glared at the Death Eater once he had recovered himself. "Just as I suspected." Snape floated the pile of dirty sheets out of the cell. "You aren't a true Occlumens. If you ever become relaxed around Voldemort or another Death Eater they would be able to penetrate your mind." "I'd never be relaxed around them," insisted Harry. Snape paused and stared at him. "Not on purpose, but if they should show up while you were under the influence of the drug.... I will have to research alternatives or wean you off of it." "I don't like the drug. It makes me say and do strange things." Harry took a sip of his orange juice and winced as it irritated his sore throat. "But I couldn’t do _that_ without it." "I'm aware of that, but we may not have a choice." Snape turned to leave. "We will practise after you finish your breakfast." Harry nibbled on his toast as he thought. As much as he hated the crazy things the drug made him say and do, he didn't think he could stand to have Snape touching him without it. It would be the throne room all over again. He would just work on perfecting his Occlumency so that he could do it all the time. After he ate, he hurried through his morning routine and parked himself against the bars. Hopefully Snape would take him upstairs today. His wishes were granted when Snape ordered, "Strip," as soon as he stepped through the library door. Harry tore off his bottoms and got to his feet. Snape opened the bars for him and he eagerly stepped through, following Snape to the practice room. "Are we going to do it fast like we did yesterday, sir?" "Speak clearly, Potter." Snape closed the door of the practice room behind them. The balls were wiggling eagerly in a corner. "Will you send lots of the balls at me like we did the last time we practised?" "Yes, now get in the centre of the room." Harry hadn't reached it when five balls flew at him at once. He stumbled and once slammed into him. Six more came at him with five following shortly behind. He tried to relax and let his body remember what to do. It took some time, but he finally managed to get into that Zen-like state where he was moving only on instinct. He hummed to himself as he weaved and ducked, twisting his body effortlessly as he propelled himself through an angry cloud of black. There seemed to be balls everywhere he looked, but he managed to avoid being hit for the most part. Snape stopped the exercise when Harry grew too tired to defend himself properly. He spelled the balls over to the corner and made a half ring on the floor to which he chained Harry before stepping out of the room. Harry lay on his back and caught his breath. Snape returned with a tray floating behind him. Harry sat up eagerly. "I've got better, haven't I? The whole room was filled with balls." Conjuring himself a chair, Snape snatched his mug off the tray of food. He floated the tray down towards Harry, who grabbed the glass of ice water off of it and gulped it down, spilling some down his chest in his hurry to drink. The cool water felt wonderful against his hot skin. Snape left and returned with a pitcher of water. Harry refilled his glass and poured it over his head. Snape frowned at him in disapproval. "Move out of that spot so I can clean the carpet." "It's just water." Harry testily replied, but shifted as far away from it as the chain would allow. Snape cast a spell and the carpet was dry instantly. Wondering what the big deal was, Harry dug into his lunch. Settling back in his chair, Snape retrieved his mug with magic. "In answer to your earlier question, you have improved, but you still require time to adjust yourself to the situation. You need to be perfectly prepared to evade when the first spell is cast." "I try, but I always think too much at the beginning, you know?" "I agree," nodded Snape. "We will continue with this method of training until you have mastered evasion but I will also begin readiness training. I will randomly cast spells at you throughout the day and you will do your best to avoid being hit." "I thought you weren't supposed to hurt me." Harry glared at the Death Eater suspiciously over his sandwich. Snape assured him, "I won't use any spells that will harm or hurt anything but your pride." Harry finished his sandwich and drank some water. There was a question he'd wanted to ask for some time but he never thought he'd have a chance at a real answer until now. Peering up at Snape, he asked, "Are Ron and Hermione still alive and free?" "Yes," answered Snape simply with an inscrutable expression on his face. Harry hung his head so Snape wouldn't see the huge grin that tore his face apart. Yes! They were doing their best to get him out and find the Horcruxes. He had to be strong and train for them so that when they were reunited, he'd be ready to defeat Voldemort with them. Soon, he'd get his letter out to them and they'd come and rescue him. He let the happiness and relief wash over him for a minute, erasing the ice he felt in his stomach, and then composed himself. Pushing himself back upright, he looked up at Snape. "I'm ready for more, sir." Snape nodded and sent the tray away after placing his mug on it. He unchained Harry from the floor, vanished the conjured chair, and strode over to the wall so that he wouldn't be in the way of the projectiles. He cast, and the room came alive as the small, black dots zoomed every which way. Harry was quicker to find his focus. He danced easily, shifting and turning with finesse as he reached the point where nothing would touch him. He had always been clumsy on the ground, especially compared to his graceful acrobatics in the air, but now he’d found a way to be agile in both mediums. Reversing the process, Snape sent balls one at a time to the corner. Harry tried to ignore the balls as their numbers thinned out. He pretended that he didn't see how many of each there were, and stopped consciously trying to track the projectiles. After steadily avoiding a number for a while, he suddenly realized he’d been successfully evading five. He had always struggled with any number above four, but now he could dodge five! It was so startling, that he stopped still and ball hit him in the face. He shouted, "I did it! I beat five!" as he punched the air with his fist. He fell on the floor with delight. "There is no need to scream about it," complained Snape. Harry wasn't going to let the sour git bring down his mood. "Now I can dodge any number." "Don't get ahead of yourself. Once you can go through a training session without being hit even one time then you will have successfully learned to dodge." "I'm doing pretty well though, aren't I?" Harry was determined to make Snape acknowledge his accomplishment. "Better than expected," admitted Snape. "Did you play a Muggle sport before you arrived at Hogwarts? I doubt Quidditch was enough to give you such reflexes." "No...." Harry got to his feet. "My relatives threw stuff at me so I got used to dodging but I haven't had to do it for several years. I need to use the loo now." Snape nodded and led him through his bedroom. Harry glanced around the bathroom curiously as he relieved himself. The burgundy towels and carpets contrasted nicely with the creamy marble and dark wood. "Why d'you have so much red in your house? D'you secretly want to be in Gryffindor?" Snape made a noise of extreme derision from the doorway. "If it were as garishly decorated as the Gryffindor common room, then I would've immediately redecorated. I simply had more important matters on my mind when I first arrived here and haven't felt the need to bother with aesthetics since." "This isn't your house?" asked Harry in surprise. "No, it belonged to another Death Eater who is now deceased." Harry washed his hands and asked, "What about the potions lab?" "I had that built after I was placed here." "When I was captured?" Harry followed Snape back to the practice room. "Yes." "If this isn't your house, then how come you have a kitchen full of spices, a potion lab full of ingredients, and a library full of books?" Harry suspected the Death Eater was lying. "Have you not heard of magic?" asked Snape impatiently. "I transported what I desired to bring from my home and my rooms at Hogwarts and mail ordered the rest." "I still think that would take some time even with magic. I bet I've been here over a month," Harry mused. "Was the prison already in place?" "Yes," confirmed Snape. "A few adjustments were made, of course." "Wait a minute!" shouted Harry, confident that he had caught Snape in a lie. "Don't most wizarding houses have magic things like clocks that show you what your family members are up to, portraits that talk to you, and furniture with attitude? Everything I've seen here except the potions lab has been completely Muggle. You even have electricity!" He pointed at the light switch. "The house was reworked after you were brought here," explained Snape impatiently. "The Dark Lord wanted to be sure that you were completely cut off from magic. That's part of the reason why I was placed here since I am the only non-Pureblood." "Why are you a Death Eater if you are a half-blood?" "Enough!" snapped Snape and several balls zoomed towards Harry. Harry wasn’t prepared for them, and two smacked into his back. He moved into the centre of the room to avoid future attacks. Geeze, Snape needed to lighten up. There was no harm in asking questions. Harry practised until his limbs felt sore. He stopped to catch his breath and rub his calves. Snape sent the balls into a corner. "That will be enough for today. Follow me." Harry stood up and trailed behind him as he was led back downstairs. A cool bath was just what he needed. Snape retrieved the potion for Harry's muscles from the cabinet as Harry ran his bath. He made it as cold as he could and jumped in. The shock of the cold water was just what he needed against the steady heat that had filled his system. When he felt cold both inside and out, he sat up and turned on the hot water to have a warm bath. "You will make yourself sick if you keep doing that.” Snape frowned at him in disapproval. Snape was only allowed to be bossy during training sessions. Petulantly, Harry stated, "I might need to fight Voldemort when I am sick so it's better to train myself in that situation too." "I have enough medicine to avoid that particular scenario unless you do something exceedingly brash or moronic. Based on your natural affinity for activities that define both of those categories, I am inclined to believe that it is far more likely that you will face the Dark Lord with a deleterious injury than a simple head cold. However, I am unwilling to break your limbs so that we may train under that more likely scenario, so we will just have to hope for the best." Snape sneered, "Won't we?" "My _affinity_?" Harry jumped out of the tub and angrily jammed his forefinger into Snape’s chest. "If I get a broken bone it will be because YOU gave it to me." Snape grabbed Harry's upper arm and pushed him back against the wall. He stepped close, fury glittering in his black eyes. "I do what I must, as do we all. Do not forget that." Suddenly, Harry realized he was naked and Snape was touching him. He violently pulled himself away from Snape, shouting, "Get away from me, you pervert!" "How dare you," hissed Snape as he stalked after Harry, who grabbed up his towel and fled back towards his cell. "I do not enjoy using you anymore than you enjoy being used!" Harry whirled around to give Snape a death glare. "Of course you enjoy it, you faggot!" Snape flew at Harry and he tried to dodge, but Snape grabbed his upper arm and threw him violently in the cell. "I'm not gay, you ungrateful brat! Starve for all I care!" He stormed off, a hurricane of anger. Harry stormed over to his bed and tore apart his pillow in anger. He'd kill Snape no matter what in the end. He imagined the remains of his pillow were Snape's neck and twisted them violently until feathers were scattered all over the sheets. Fuck. He hoped Snape had been lying about not being gay but it confirmed what he had suspected: he'd been turned into a woman. Snape didn't need a potion to touch him because to him, Harry was just a substitute for a woman. Harry jumped off his bed and did push ups until he couldn't move his arms anymore. He'd have to bulk up. He had always been small and slender. In the past he’d wished that he was taller, but overall, his size hadn't bothered him too much because most professional seekers tended to be on the smaller side. Now, he wanted to be a foot taller and have a million muscles. They wouldn't have touched him if he had looked like that. He washed himself off in the sink and put on his clothes. He returned to his bed and stared in dismay at the feathers all over the bed. Fetching the towel he had been wearing, he gathered the feathers and fabric and tucked it up in the towel as best he could. Placing his makeshift pillow on the head of the bed, he slid between the sheets. As much as he wanted and needed to train, he didn't want to apologize. Things had been going so well and somehow everything had been bollixed up. He wasn't sure quite how it had happened. One minute Snape was being annoying like he normally was and the next he had thrown Harry in his cell without dinner. Maybe he had been offended at being called a 'faggot.' Harry hadn't meant it. He'd just been angry and it was the worst thing he could think of to call Snape. Harry replayed the conversation in his mind once he had calmed down. Snape had said that he didn't like having sex with Harry anymore than Harry liked being fucked by him. Snape always came, but then again, so did Harry and he knew that he didn't enjoy it. He hadn't seen Snape take any potions, but he hadn't ever watched Snape the whole time and he didn't know what Snape normally tasted like so there was no way he'd be able to tell if there was the taste of a potion on Snape's tongue when they kissed. Harry shook his head. Snape hadn't taken any potions when he had raped Harry in front of Voldemort, and he had been able to climax then, so he didn't need a potion to have sex with Harry. Not unless he carried an aphrodisiac around with him constantly, although that seemed highly unlikely. But . . . the Snape who raped and whipped Harry seemed like a different person than the Snape who trained him and stroked his back after sex. How Snape could be so monstrous sometimes yet helpful and even caring at other moments? Maybe sex orgasms just made anyone be nice to whomever they were shared with. He knew that he stopped wanting to kill Snape after he had one. He hoped that Snape did hate having sex with him and had to take potions every time because Snape was straight and hated being forced to have sex with another man. Maybe that was why he refused to have sex with Harry in a position where they both faced each other. Maybe if he didn't see Harry, he could pretend that he was fucking a woman. Just as long as Snape didn't think of Harry as a woman.... Harry sighed. He needed Snape to train him. He shouldn't have let his anger run away with him. Snape would never train him again unless Harry apologised and Harry would rather have sex with Snape than apologize to him. He'd have to trick Snape into training him. He'd wait till tomorrow and see what sort of mood Snape was in before he started planning. Feeling better, Harry ignored his rumbling stomach and went to sleep. 

~

Harry woke starving. The workout the day before had left him famished and he was almost willing to apologize in exchange for food.

He read _Dracula_ until he heard Snape's footsteps in the library. Setting down the book, he sat up on his bed and prepared to deal with Snape, who strode into the hallway. 

"I hope you rested well, Potter." Snape's voice had a strange tone to it. "I brought something new for you to dodge."

"Huh?" Snape wasn't holding the previous night against him? He was being trained?


	17. Chapter 17

  
Author's notes: Harry is hunting for the Horcruxes when he is captured by the Death Eaters. Snape is positioned as his prison guard. Completely cut off from his friends and loved ones, Harry struggles to survive and prevent himself from being broken by the Death Eaters. Can he trust Snape to help him through this or is Snape the cruel Death Eater he appears to be?   


* * *

Harry dreamed that he and Snape switched roles. He was pointing a gun at the Death Eater, who glared at him through the cell bars. 

"You need to get better at dodging, Snape. How will we ever beat Voldemort unless you learn how to do it?"

"It's your job, Potter," insisted Snape. "Not mine."

"You're my prisoner, so you have to do what I say. Now dodge." Harry shot off the gun and Snape skittered around the room like a bat.

He finally managed to land a shot on the Death Eater and Snape fell to his knees.

"You idiot, Potter. You used real bullets."

Harry checked the gun. Oops. He had grabbed the wrong gun earlier that morning. "Sorry, I didn't mean to shoot you."

"You never think, Potter." Snape melted into the floor as he died.

Harry ran into the cell and grabbed onto Snape's robes. "Please! I need you! I'll never be able to beat Voldemort on my own."

"Then the entire world is doomed." Snape completely vanished, leaving only his robes. 

Harry woke feeling depressed. Normally a dream about Snape's death would've cheered him up, but the despair he had felt in the dream when Snape died remained with him. He slid out of bed and brushed his teeth to try to distract himself. It didn't work and neither did trying to read _Dracula_. When Snape still didn't show up several hours after breakfast was normally served, Harry put down the book and sat in front of the bars.

Had Snape been killed? It wasn't like him to not serve Harry breakfast. Maybe his dream had been prophetic. Harry couldn't stand it any longer. He threw himself at the bars and banged his cuffs against them as hard as he could.

Snape stormed in about fifteen minutes later. "You had better be dying!" he bellowed.

"I thought you were dead." Harry blinked at him, then scurried back to his bed as Snape swept into the cell.

"If you would be so lucky," muttered Snape as he served Harry breakfast. "Now sit down and shut up. If I hear another noise from you I will drag you up to entertain my guests." With that threat hanging in the air, Snape stormed away.

Not wanting to be paraded in front of a bunch of Death Eaters, Harry ate his breakfast. After he finished, he read his book until Snape showed up. 

"Are they gone?" Harry sat up.

"Yes, don't ever do that again. The last thing you want is the attention of a group of angry Death Eaters."

"I won't," promised Harry. Why were the Death Eaters angry? Whatever it was, it probably was good for him. He cheered himself up by imagining various things the Order could have done to compel the Death Eaters to have an emergency meeting.

Snape spelled the bars open and Harry stripped off his bottoms to go train.

"You can leave them on. They never visit twice the same day."

Harry stepped through the bars. "Do they visit everyday?"

"No."

Harry could tell from Snape's tone that he wasn't going to get anymore answers, so he didn't press. He moved to the centre of the practice room, which had been emptied again. Snape started the exercise but Harry was off. Although he could avoid four projectiles with ease, five still remained out of his reach. It frustrated him and he tried harder, but it just wasn't his day and he kept getting hit. He had started to attack the balls in anger rather than dodging when Snape stopped the exercise.

"What's wrong, Potter?"

"I don't know!" Harry fell to his knees and punched the floor in frustration. "I keep trying, but I just can't do it!"

Snape created a ring and chained Harry to it before leaving the room. Harry tried to figure out where he had gone wrong, but he didn't know what had happened. When Snape returned with food, Harry accepted the plate even though he didn't feel hungry.

"I don't get it. I was doing so well."

"You are tense," commented Snape. "You need to relax and react rather than think."

Harry gritted his teeth. "I'm trying."

"Perhaps we should stop for today." 

"No! I can do it!" Harry shot upright. "Let me try again."

"Eat your lunch, then we we’ll do a different exercise."

Harry forced the food down his throat. After Harry finished, Snape left the room, returning shortly with the laser pointer. 

"I want to do more dodging."

"No," Snape refused and Harry's anger shifted.

"Why not?" he demanded.

 

"Potter," Snape growled in warning. "You will do what I say or return to your cage."

Harry wanted to scream at him, but he accepted the laser pointer instead. Snape spelled the balls to zoom around the walls and Harry took aim. It was far more challenging than targeting them in his room had been. The larger space made it harder for him to pick out individual balls so he cheated and stepped closer to a wall so he could aim better.

When Snape stopped the exercise and returned Harry to the basement, Harry couldn’t believe how far he’d fallen. He’d been doing so well before! He would never be prepared to face Voldemort at this rate. He plodded back to his cell and threw himself on his bed.

"There is no need for such a dramatic display." Snape tapped the table and dinner appeared. "Your skills are such that you were progressing much further than can be expected so it was natural that you'd hit a plateau before long. Furthermore, you've already proven yourself capable of dodging a large number of projectiles when you are in the correct mindset. Just work on relaxing yourself."

"But I need to be able to dodge completely all the time!" Harry pointed out. "If I get hit once, I'll die."

"You will get there. Try not to think about it too much." Snape stepped out through the bars. "Eat and rest."

Harry didn't feel like eating. He lay in bed and ignored his stomach. Why did he have to be the one to destroy Voldemort? Why couldn't anything go right in his life? He just wasn’t strong enough to defeat anyone as powerful as Voldemort, especially without magic. Even if he learned all the tasks Snape had set before him, he’d never be ready. He needed to practice more magic. He hadn’t even completed his years at Hogwarts, yet he was expected to kill a wizard who had spent his entire life amassing power and learning dark spells. Why hadn't Dumbledore had him trained during his time at Hogwarts? His whole fifth year, after they knew that Voldemort was back, they had just left him with Umbridge. Hell, he'd even had to teach! Snape's Occlumency lessons had just been about one tiny aspect of all the things he needed to know. His sixth year, instead of teaching him magic, Dumbledore had taught him about Voldemort's past. That knowledge had been useful and Harry was grateful for it, but why hadn't Dumbledore taught him spells as well?

The wizarding world had failed him. Even Ron and Hermione, his most trusted friends, had not come to save him. It had been over a month, what the hell were they doing? Hermione should’ve been able to save him by now if she was really trying. Harry refused to believe that she simply couldn't rescue him from this prison. Obviously, they cared more about the Horcruxes than they did about him. Or maybe they had given up completely without him to guide them. He had been utterly abandoned by everyone but Snape, and Snape was just using him to obtain his own goals. Although Snape had been scarily nice to him, he just couldn't trust the Death Eater after what had happened the last time he had begun to loosen his guard around Snape. He kept waiting for Snape to unleash his evilness as he had done during that time in the throne room. 

Even though Harry was angry at Ron and Hermione, he couldn't blame them for giving up. There was no way that they'd be able to stop Voldemort, even if Ron and Hermione somehow managed to destroy the Horcruxes. Voldemort was right - Dumbledore had been stupid to rest the fate of the wizarding world on the back of teenagers.

Harry tried to sleep but it didn't come easily.

~

Harry was still depressed when he woke the next morning. He stared up at the ceiling, wishing he could fall back asleep.

Snape arrived and spelled him breakfast. "Are you still wrapped in the throes of adolescent angst?"

"You're the only one I have helping me and you'll probably just kill me after I beat Voldemort."

"I can assure you, Miss Granger and Mr Weasley have not forgotten about you," Snape declared in a firm voice.

"How would you know?" Harry turned away from him. "You've been here the whole time just like I have."

"Do you think the other Death Eaters visit me just to drink tea?" Snape's voice was impatient. "Your friends are doing their best to prepare for the destruction of the Dark Lord. If you wish to make their efforts worthless, then by all means lie in bed all day and refuse to eat. If you do not care about the lives already lost then continue to mope. However, you will gain nothing and lose everything. You are being kept alive right now to serve a specific purpose. Eventually, the Dark Lord will no longer need you for that reason and he will allow you to be hurt continuously. Instead of being given to a Death Eater for a few hours a night, you will be given to one for days or even weeks at a time. I will no longer be able to protect you then and they will be allowed to do whatever they like as long as you live."

"If you are trying to cheer me up, you are failing miserably," muttered Harry. 

"If you expect me to hold your hand and assure you that everything will be all right you have failed to realize the gravity of the situation. Either you will be a toy to be used and abused until someone takes it too far and accidentally kills you, or you can fight against Voldemort in a final battle that will probably end up causing the deaths of more of your friends and loved ones."

"I KNOW!" Harry cried out in frustration. "I know it's going to be shite no matter what. I know I'm fucked over no matter what I do. I know people are going to die. I know I have to train. It's just...." He swallowed. "You're the only one I know is helping me." He stared at his hands fisted in the sheets. "And I train because I don't have anything else to do, but how do I know you won't just bring me before Voldemort one day and both of you will laugh at me, and I will find it's all been a cruel joke?"

Snape did not say anything in response. He was probably trying to think of a way to assure Harry of his intentions, but Harry knew he was a slick liar. 

"Come with me, Potter," Snape finally said. "You may keep your clothes on."

Snape would just force him if he refused, so Harry slid out of the bed and trudged after Snape. Snape spelled the chain between his cuffs and led him upstairs. Were they going to train? Snape grabbed Harry’s upper arm and pulled him towards the throne room. Harry had never been in the throne room when he wasn't being tortured. He tried to pull away from Snape. "Don't-"

"I won't hurt you now," Snape told him.

Harry didn't believe him, but he wanted to catch Snape in a lie so that he’d have an excuse to attack him. He allowed himself to be led into the room. It was empty and they passed through it quickly. Snape led him to the large entrance doors and Harry found himself in another carpeted hallway. He didn't have much time to look around before Snape pulled him into the kitchen. It was a rather large room, about the size of the practice room, with a white, tiled floor. Light filtered in from the few windows, which had been covered in some sort of white film. It allowed light to brighten the room, but prevented Harry from seeing out. To the left of Harry, stood a long wooden table ringed with chairs and on his right were several white and black shapes, probably appliances. Harry thought he recognised a refrigerator, sink, oven, stove, and dishwasher. Shelves lined almost every inch of the walls that did not have windows cut out or appliances pushed up against them. Snape brought Harry over to the table and stepped past it to reach a second sink, which was wedged between two cater-corner wooden doors.

"Wash your hands." 

Harry obeyed. When he finished, Snape pulled him over to the end of the table and bade him to sit down, facing the rest of the kitchen. After Harry had taken a seat, Snape chained him to both the chair and the table. Harry had enough room to stand or sit, but not move more than two feet from the edge of the table. 

"You'd be useless in the practice room today and I am not going to let you mope in your cell. You will work for me. Have you ever cooked before?"

Harry blinked at Snape. "Yeah, I made meals for my relatives."

"Have you ever made bread?”

He shook his head. “We always bought it.”

“You will make fresh loaves.”

“How can I do that while chained to the table?” asked Harry suspiciously. What sort of game was Snape playing?

"You will mix the ingredients and knead the dough for me," explained Snape. "Just a moment." Stepping out of the room, he returned shortly wearing black trousers and a black jumper that were covered by a black apron. In his hands, he carried another apron. Harry stared at him in shock. He had never seen Snape out of his robes when he was lucid. 

“Stand up.”

Harry got to his feet and Snape put the apron on him, tying it behind his back. He stepped away from Harry and turned toward the wall opposite the windows. Harry tried to examine the shelves that covered the walls more clearly. With his bad vision, he couldn’t tell more than that they were completely covered in a multitude of objects.

Snape called out ingredients and they flew towards him from the shelves, ending up on the table before Harry. Picking them up one by one, Harry read the labels: yeast, sugar, evaporated milk, honey, salt, whole wheat flour, bread flour, oats, wheat germ, and flax seeds. Once Snape had finished gathering the ingredients, he stepped over to the large white object Harry reckoned was a fridge. Butter joined the other items on the table. Snape moved around at the other end of the kitchen and sent over two bowls, a wooden spoon, a set of measuring cups, a set of measuring spoons, a box of plastic wrap, and two bread pans. Finally, Snape approached again and placed three clear beaker looking objects before him. Two appeared to contain water and the other something Harry didn't recognise. 

"One half cup water." Snape warmed it with his wand. "Add the yeast and sugar and stir." He picked up a small spoon Harry hadn't seen before. Following the instructions Snape gave, Harry carefully measured out the needed ingredients. Snape gave the orders patiently, opening bags and boxes before pushing them over for Harry to measure ingredients out of. 

After they'd added most of the items to the bowl, Snape said, “Mix the ingredients,” and handed Harry a wooden spoon.

Harry stirred the ingredients until they were combined. Snape poured in the yeast mixture and let Harry blend everything together. Once Harry had finished, Snape said, "Now we put it to the side for fifteen minutes."

Snape cleared a space for Harry in front of the table, sending most of the ingredients back to the shelves. He left for the fridge again and returned with a cheese grater and a block of cheese, with a bowl floating behind him.

"Grate half this block." He put all three before Harry and Harry picked up the block and started to fill the bowl. He had almost finished when Snape said, "That's fine," and sent the three items away. He moved the bowl of bread back towards Harry. "Now, add in the white flour and mix it with your hands until it forms a ball."

Harry did so, delighting in the squishiness of the dough beneath his fingers. Snape watched carefully and then stopped Harry. 

"Here's how you do it." He pushed up the sleeves on his sweaters revealing his forearms. Harry stared at them in fascination as Snape plunged his hands into the bowl and expertly worked the dough, turning it over on itself with force. "Now you try." He pushed the bowl back over to Harry, who then imitated his actions. "Much better."

Harry kneaded the bread with force, pushing his anger out into it.

"There's no need to beat it into submission yet." Snape retrieved the bowl and kneaded it a few more times before putting it to the side. "Now, butter this bowl." The other large bowl moved over to Harry. Harry did so and Snape placed the bread in the buttered bowl, turning it around so that every inch of it was coated in butter. Once he was finished, Snape used plastic wrap to cover the bowl. "We have to let it rise," he explained as he set it to the side. "You can prepare the blueberries for the blueberry jam." Leaving for the fridge, he returned with a large bowl, two cartons of blueberries and an odd utensil Harry had never seen before. Snape poured the blueberries into the large bowl. "Mash them up as best you can."

Harry pounded them with vigour, using so much force in his anger that the juice splashed all over his hand. 

Seeing and smelling all the food had made Harry hungry and, as he pushed the finished bowl away, his stomach rumbled. Snape Accio’d an apple and handed it to him. Harry bit into it eagerly. Moving to the fridge, Snape returned with a chicken sandwich and a glass of milk for Harry. Harry finished his apple, then dug into his sandwich. Snape fixed himself tea and sat across the table to drink it. 

"D'you make all your bread from scratch?" Harry asked when he had finished half.

"Yes, I find it is far superior in taste to the kind available at most stores." Snape's Dark Mark moved as he sipped his tea.

"Where did you learn how to cook?

"It's very similar to potion making. I started with recipes, and then learned the properties of the different ingredients. It's all a matter of paying attention to details."

Harry finished his milk. "I always hated cooking. It's probably a lot more interesting when you make things you want to eat instead of what other people want."

"It is." Snape cleared the dishes and retrieved the bowl of dough, which had nearly doubled in size

"Wow." Harry stared at it as Snape spread flour on the table in front of him. "Is it supposed to do that?"

"Yes, yeasts are micro organisms which convert sugars to carbon dioxide. The production of carbon dioxide causes the bread to expand." Snape dumped the dough on the table and then punched it. "Now we have to get the bubbles out." He divided the bread in half and handed half to Harry. Harry followed his lead and slammed his fists into the bread. He punched it hard, imagining it was various Death Eaters, and his loaf looked a lot flatter than Snape's by the time he finished. Snape placed the loaves in the pans, then buttered the tops of them. After covering them both in plastic wrap again, he floated them off towards the other end of the kitchen. 

When Snape returned, he cleared the table. "Take off your apron and leave it on the table." As Harry took it off, Snape conjured a bowl and poured water into it from his wand. "Wash your hands." A towel flew over and Harry caught it automatically. When his hands were cleaned, Snape made sure his clothes were flour free as well.

"Your cage hasn’t been properly cleaned for a while." Snape stepped back over to the other side of the kitchen and returned with a plastic tote of cleaning supplies. He was no longer wearing the apron and the sleeves covered his forearms again. He freed Harry from the table. "Follow me."

Harry tried to trail behind him to see the kitchen in more detail, but Snape grabbed his upper arm and hurried him along. "Did you clean when you lived with your relatives?"

"Yeah, I did everything there."

Snape led him into his cell. "Let me give you something else to wear so you won't dirty your clothes."

Harry poked at the cleaning supplies and found all the items he'd need to properly clean the cell. Snape returned wearing his robes and handed Harry an old, grey nightshirt. Sliding out of his shirt, Harry buttoned the nightshirt over himself. 

"We will have to perform tonight or tomorrow."

"It doesn't matter to me."

"Tonight then." Snape left.

Harry cleaned every inch he could reach. He started with the sink and toilet and then washed down the walls. After wiping the bed posts, he tackled the table, even cleaning off the underside. Finally, he scrubbed the floor by hand. When he had finally finished cleaning, only half the paper towel roll remained, and he was hungry and tired. He stripped off the nightshirt and washed his hands in the sink. 

He pulled his shirt back on and waited for Snape to return. As much as he hated having sex with Snape, a part of him looked forward to the relaxation and euphoria that came with it. He could use one of those post-orgasmic moments of relief and bliss more than ever. If he could trade Snape for Ginny he'd be having sex at least once a day, if not more. Of course, Ginny wasn't here and he was stuck being fucked like a girl by an ugly, old, evil Death Eater. Harry scowled. His only consolation was that Snape hated doing it too. Harry had always thought of his professors as asexual but Snape seemed to know what he was doing in bed. Was gay sex really different than straight sex? Did you have to cast lubrication spells on vaginas too? Probably not, otherwise Muggles wouldn't ever have sex. Maybe lubrication wasn't needed but just made things easier. Hopefully Ginny would know how to have sex.

The thought of Ginny leading him through sex made his cock harden and he picked up _Dracula_ to distract himself while he waited for Snape. If his erection didn’t go down, then Snape might mistakenly think it was for him. After about an hour, when Harry's body had calmed again, Snape arrived and stepped through the bars. Harry tucked the book under the mattress and lay back, expecting Snape to start right away but the Death Eater spelled dinner on the table and left. 

He took the twang he felt in his gut for hunger rather than disappointment and slid over to the table to eat. Snape had served pork chops with scalloped potatoes and spotted dick for desert. Harry finished it, then drank his orange juice. Snape always gave him orange juice when they were going to have sex. Once he finished, he returned to the bed. 

Annoyingly, he was half hard when Snape showed up despite all his attempts to fix the situation. Snape remained outside the bars. 

"Time for your bath."

Harry didn't want to take a bath because then Snape would see he was aroused, but he probably smelled like cleaning solutions. Standing up, Harry walked over to the bars, hiding his erection with his hands. He stepped through and went into the bathroom. Snape followed him in, taking up his position along the wall. Hiding his groin from Snape, Harry undressed and quickly got into the tub, pouring in a lot of bubble bath. He cleaned himself carefully, saving his penis for last. He cleaned it quickly, not wanting it to grow any thicker. Finally, he stepped out of the tub and dried himself off. He dressed in a hurry and then returned to his room. Snape opened the bars for him and he stepped through and headed towards his bed as he dried off his hair. 

"I doubt your hair would be such a mess if you didn't attack it with the towel," commented Snape as he placed the potion on the edge of the table. 

"It would," Harry assured him. "My aunt used to forbid me from touching it after a bath and it always looked bad even when she combed it." He grabbed up the potion, embarrassed about how hard he’d been earlier. Augh. He wanted the orgasms, but he didn't want to be with Snape. He wanted to feel happy, but he didn't want to say strange things. Snape stepped outside of the bars, but it wasn't enough for Harry. Snape didn't have to take the drug, he got to keep his clothes on, he got to be in the male position, and he got to get up and leave afterwards. It wasn't fair and Harry hated it.

"You have to take off your clothes this time." Harry put the potion back on the table. 

"No," Snape refused and Harry's anger spiked.

"Yes! It's not fair that I am the only one naked!" Harry turned to glare at Snape. "If I have to be completely exposed then you do too!"

"Fine," Snape relented after a moment's thought. "But I will only undress after you take the potion."

"Okay, but if you cheat I will bite off your penis!"

"I'm never letting your mouth near my groin," Snape assured him.

Harry drank the potion, undressed, and climbed onto the bed. Even though it had been nearly enough time for the potion to take effect, he was already growing hard. He laid face down to prevent Snape from noticing his erection. After a bit, the towel began to feel really interesting against his face, so he rubbed against it as he slowly humped the bed. He felt the bed dip as Snape climbed on it, and he flipped on his back and sat up to examine Snape. 

Snape's body was very pale, as though only his face and hands ever saw light. Long, wiry limbs emerged from a masculine torso. Several scars marred his body, including a particularly nasty looking one that almost cut through his right areola. Snape's penis, perched proudly in a cloud of black pubic hair, was similar in colour to the rest of him: pale with undertones of blue. Harry had compared with the other boys in the showers but he had never seen another bloke’s penis up close, and he was especially curious about this one so he reached out and grabbed it. 

Both Snape and his cock jumped as Harry's fingers closed around his length.

"What are you doing?" asked Snape in a slightly panicked voice.

It was about the same size as Harry's full one, although based on how squishy it was, it probably would grow even bigger. Harry began to bend down to examine it when Snape quickly stopped him with one hand and removed Harry's fingers with the other.

"What are you doing?" he asked again in alarm.

"I have to get close to see," explained Harry.

"You don’t need to see," Snape firmly stated and then turned Harry around. Harry was about to object when Snape pulled him back onto his lap. Spreading his legs and straddling Snape's, Harry pressed his back against Snape's warm body. He could feel Snape's twitching cock trapped between their bodies. Snape's teasing fingers ran up and down Harry's torso as he licked and sucked on the crux of Harry's neck and right shoulder. The evil fingers touched everywhere except his painfully hard nipples, and Harry finally grabbed the hands and showed them where to go.

"Here, touch me here." 

"Like this?" Snape rolled the nubs between his thumbs and forefingers and Harry moaned with pleasure. 

"Yes, just like that." Harry pressed back against Snape. It felt different this time around. His thoughts weren't running away from him like before and his high wasn't as euphoric as before. As much as he enjoyed the greater feeling of self-control, he wanted to lose himself in ecstasy. He rubbed back against Snape's cock. "Go inside . . . I want you inside."

Snape pushed Harry up on his knees. Harry leaned against the wall and spread his legs.

" _Accio lubrication_." Snape's deep voice drew shivers from Harry. Harry glanced back to see Snape unscrewing a small jar that contained the strawberry-scented lube. After unscrewing it, Snape placed his hand on the small of Harry's back, sending both spells through him. Why did he use both the spell and the gel? Maybe Snape just liked the smell of the strawberry lube. 

Snape's hair covered his face as he watched his fingers slowly breached Harry, two pushing in and spreading out as they wiggled their way inside. Harry gasped and pressed back against them, eager for more. Snape took the hint and quickly added a third digit, spreading the three wide once before removing them.

Harry pressed his arms against the wall and thrust out his arse. Gripping Harry's hips, Snape pushed his cock up against Harry's entrance. He yanked back as he thrust forward, and sheathed himself completely inside with one stroke. It felt so good even with the tiny bit of pain that came from such an abrupt entrance. Snape stroked Harry's thighs lightly for a moment before started thrusting like a jackhammer. Harry could do nothing but cling to the wall, nonsense words spilling from his lips as he struggled to keep upright and not melt into a puddle of happiness. 

Fuck! This was just what he needed! Snape's heat was slamming against the thing inside of him that made his cock so thick and heavy and he couldn't think of anything but how incredibly amazing it felt. He lost himself in the pleasure, the ice in his stomach vanishing completely as he couldn’t think and feel anything but how fucking amazing it felt. He wasn't about to be tortured. He wasn't a prisoner. He wasn't in a fight for the entire wizarding world. He wasn't abandoned and cut off from everyone who loved him. He was just a boy who was having the best damned sex of his life. 

He was so fucking close, but he just couldn't come, so he reached down and grabbed his needful prick. He was so ready to blow that he only needed to pull his foreskin up over the head twice before he was coming, his balls emptying completely against the walls in white strips of paint. He collapsed back against Snape, the force of his orgasm draining him. All the tension and hate had been emptied out of him with his spunk, and he felt at peace for the first time since his last orgasm. Snape placed one hand against the wall and wrapped the other around Harry, holding him tightly as he continued to slam into him. Harry could feel his jerks quickening and knew it would be over soon. He didn’t want it to end. He wanted to feel this high again, so he said, "Fucking is better than training," just as Snape poured out his seed.

Snape released Harry and pulled out of him quickly. "You . . . you...." he gasped in shaky breaths. Harry lay against the sheets, feeling quite pleased with himself. 

Snape finally managed to catch his breath. "You stupid boy, I warned you from the beginning that you have to watch what you say. We will have to attempt this again tomorrow."

"I don't mind." He flipped over and tried to wrap himself around Snape. Snape quickly pushed him away and left the bed.

"You don't mind now, but tomorrow you will be angry and probably will blame me, even though I specifically told you not to mention that." A flurry of black surrounded his pale form as he dressed himself. 

"It's okay, really. Please don't leave." He wanted to cuddle with Snape. That was the second best part!

"You will hate me again in the morning."

"I don't hate Sex Snape." Whipping Snape he hated and wanted to kill, but Sex Snape was fine.

Snape misunderstood. "Of course you don't hate sex! It's because of that drug I gave you. I shouldn't have done that. I should've found some other way. We will stop it immediately."

"No, I need it!" Harry sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed. "I won't say anything tomorrow. I swear. Please?"

Snape finished dressing and smoothed out his hair. "Perhaps I will gag you." He considered for a moment and then said, "If you behave tomorrow then I will give you the drug. If you do not, then we will try it without it. And by behaving I expect you to train instead of moping. Is that understood?"

"Yes, of course," Harry eagerly agreed. 

Snape nodded, cast the cleaning spells, and left. Harry waited until Snape was out of sight before he fell back against the bed and grinned. He would've preferred it if Snape had stayed and held him after sex, but the sex was so wonderful and he felt so happy and free that he didn't let that minor set back annoy him. He’d get to have sex twice! That last session had been so amazing and he hoped the next one would be even better. Feeling completely satiated, he fell asleep in no time.

[[Thank you for all your very helpful comments and criticisms. I'm going to be changing some wording and a few things in some earlier chapters. Please review and tell me what you like/dislike!]] 


	18. Chapter 18

  
Author's notes: Harry’s hunting for the Horcruxes when he is captured by the Death Eaters and held as a prisoner/slave. Snape is positioned as his prison guard. Cut off from his friends and loved ones, Harry struggles to survive and hold himself intact. Snape appears to be helping him but can Harry trust the man who killed so many of his loved ones? For whom is Snape really working? How is Harry ever going to defeat Voldemort without wand or magic?  


* * *

Harry dreamt that when it was Snape's time to torture him, he had sex with him in the middle of the throne room instead. It was really good and Harry had to pretend it hurt so Voldemort wouldn’t get mad and Crucio them both. Snape whispered, "Don't let him know you like it, or I will never have sex with you again." "I won't. I won't," promised Harry as he raised his arse so Snape could go deeper. Harry woke with a raging hard-on. He was a freak. What the hell had he done the night before? He grabbed his pillow and put it over his face. Now he would have to have sex with Snape again! He blamed Snape. If he hadn’t given Harry that drug then he wouldn't have said and did such freaky things. He couldn't tell Snape that he blamed him though, or they would have to have sex without the potion and Harry knew he could never do that. At least with the drug he enjoyed it. He felt his face heat under the pillow and he pressed the cloth down tighter. He wasn't gay. He wasn't. He only enjoyed it because of that horrible drug. He was very straight and only had strange sex dreams because he had been given abnormal potions. Satisfied that his heterosexuality was safe, Harry got up to use the toilet. As he set the pillow to the side, he wondered when he had got a new one. Had Snape switched it for him? The Death Eater was stealthy. Maybe he'd teach Harry how to walk around without making any noise if Harry trained well today. Now that the high of the sex orgasm had worn off, Harry no longer felt happy like he had the night before, but he didn't feel as depressed as he had the previous day. He pulled out _Dracula_ from under his mattress. He would try to get a hold of _Frankenstein_ now that he was almost finished with _Dracula_. He wasn't sure yet how to pull it off, but he needed to somehow get himself alone in the library for a few seconds. He was still planning when Snape arrived to conjure breakfast. Joining Snape at the table, Harry could feel the black eyes boring into him and he suspected Snape was wondering why he wasn't angry about being forced to perform a second time. After a bit, Snape finally spoke, saying, "I have potions to brew so I won’t be able to train you all day. I noticed that you are almost finished with _Dracula_. Is there another book you wish to read?" Harry wanted to request _Frankenstein_ , but that would probably result in the book's disappearance so he asked, "Can I go into the library and look at the titles?" Snape nodded. "You may, but you are only permitted Muggle books. I'll let you pick out a title after your training." "That's fine." Harry hid his excitement, trying not to appear overeager at the chance to go into the library. He could barely finish his breakfast in his excitement. Snape quietly drank his tea, looking very displeased. Why Snape was so annoyed with being forced to do it a second time? Harry was inexperienced, sure, but he doubted he was horrible in bed. It wasn't like there was anything for him to do other than take it anyway. Perhaps Snape's discomfort was due to how masculine Harry was. Maybe he was having trouble keeping his mind on women. That thought cheered Harry up and he was eager to practise again by the time they stepped out of the cell. Snape led him up to the practice room, which was empty except for the balls. Harry hurried out to the centre and was ready when the first three zoomed at him. He had seen the book on top of the high bookshelf when they passed through the library. He'd find another book the same size and shape as _Frankenstein_. Then, he'd do some sort of distraction and switch the books. He'd take a larger book and hide _Frankenstein_ underneath it. The only problem was figuring out what sort of distraction he'd cause. He reckoned that he'd need to be in the library several times before Snape relaxed around him. If only he had his magic! He'd be able to get that book for sure. He was so busy focused on _Frankenstein_ , that he had forgotten to pay attention to the balls, and when he realised he was easily evading six, he almost fell over. One hit him and Snape stopped the exercise. "What changed there?" "I wasn't thinking about it at all and then I remembered what I was doing. I didn't know I was dodging six at once." "Let's try again. I want you to focus on Quidditch, or something else completely different, until you reach your comfort zone. Once there, bring your concentration back to dodging. If you find yourself unable to dodge, then retreat back into your zone. Do this until you can evade the projectiles while completely conscious of your surroundings. You accomplished it before so it should not be too difficult." Harry nodded to show he understood and walked back to the centre of the room. He started thinking of Ron and Hermione, but that was too painful so he thought of Quidditch as Snape had suggested. Pretending to chase an invisible, he followed its path around the room, weaving and dodging as he imagined it fluttering here and there. After a bit of that, he realised he was supposed to be concentrating on the room, so he imagined that the Snitch would periodically disappear and he'd have to search for it again, looking around the room as he did so. The imaginary Snitch stayed away for longer and longer until he no longer needed to picture it. Without needing to track the invisible Snitch, he stayed mostly in one place and deftly dodged all the projectiles sent at him. After a bit, Snape sent the balls away. "Why did you stop moving around?" "You always tell me to make small movements." Harry followed him out of the room. "You should evade with small movements, but you will need to move around the room if you want the Death Eaters to accidentally kill each other. You were doing it perfectly before you stayed in the centre of the room." Snape led him into the library. Harry pretended to casually examine the shelves as he searched for the book he needed. "I'll try to remember that next time." "What were you imagining?" Snape sat down in one of the chairs and watched Harry. "I was pretending to follow a Snitch." All these books were too big so he moved over to look on the other side of the room. "The Dark Lord defeated through Quidditch skills.... I'm sure there are many wizards rolling in their graves right now," said Snape dryly. "If it's a matter of Quidditch skills, Voldemort doesn't stand a chance. Death Eaters versus the Order in the biggest game ever played.... I think I could beat you with a team composed entirely of Weasleys and I." "Me," said Snape instantly. "You'd play on our team?" Harry asked him in confusion. He couldn't imagine Snape playing Quidditch. "The proper grammar is 'Weasleys and me,' Potter," corrected Snape. Harry was about to respond but then he saw the perfect book. _The Fall of the House of Usher_ by Edgar Allen Poe. It was exactly the size and shape as _Frankenstein_ and even had the same colours. "Did _Dracula_ whet your appetite for horror?" "It's a horror book?" Harry put it back on the shelf. He doubted he'd be able to distract Snape's hawk gaze long enough to switch the books today. "I think I'd rather read something that's cheerful." "Ordinarily I'd suggest a Shakespearian comedy but that is above your level." Harry hated having limits placed upon him. "Let me try it." " _Accio, Midsummer's Night Dream_ ," said Snape and a small book flew towards him. He led Harry to the bathroom but did not follow him in. Since Snape wasn’t there, Harry decided to take a shower. Although still disappointed with his progress, he had improved from the day before. Training sessions were artificial so it was difficult for him to try to predict how he'd do if were to be brought before Voldemort. Harry liked to think that he would be able to successfully dodge everything thrown at him, but going up against trained killers was significantly different than going up against mindless projectiles. When he joined Snape for dinner back in his cell, he said, "You should bring some Death Eaters to shoot at me and then Obliviate them afterwards so that I can practise dodging spells." "Far too risky." Snape shook his head. "Contrary to common belief, Obliviation does not remove memories. The mind is not a scroll on which words can be written and removed with ease. No one has ever studied the scientific processes of how Obliviation works, but it does not remove memories; it merely covers up or diverts the neurons involved. This is why memory charms can be broken through and why Obliviated people will react subconsciously to events they don’t remember." "How can they react to it if they don't remember it?" asked Harry. "Muggles have found that memories are encoded in layers. Let's say I took you to the top of a tower and pushed you off. One set of cells would encode that specific event – being pushed off a tower. While others would encode on a more general level – the drop, your fear at falling, the dangers of being on a high tower in my proximity, and so on. If I Obliviated your memory of the event and took you on top of the tower again you would feel fear although you wouldn't understand why you were afraid. If I brought other Death Eaters in to train you and then Obliviated their memories, they would subconsciously remember your skill. Furthermore, memory charms can be broken through and removed by skilled wizards such as the Dark Lord." "So if you completely Obliviated me, I'd still hate you and Voldemort and all the other Death Eaters?" "Yes." Snape nodded. "You'd be fearful when you saw one although you wouldn't be able to say why." "Bloody hell, that sounds horrific." Harry shivered. "I hope to avoid it at all costs." Snape sent his empty mug away. "Are you finished with your meal?" "Not yet." Harry ate the rest of his chicken. When he was finished, Snape cleared the dishes, placed the sex potion on the table, then moved to stand on the other side of the bars. Harry quaffed it and climbed onto the bed, laying face down on the sheets after he’d undressed. Hopefully he wouldn't say or do anything embarrassing like he had done the night before. He waited for the potion to take effect but it didn't seem to be working as well as before, and he was still mostly lucid when Snape joined him on the bed. He stared at the wall, too embarrassed to look at the naked Death Eater. "Lift your head," ordered Snape and Harry did so only to have Snape move a black cloth to his lips. "Wha-" he started to say before Snape gagged him. He didn't like it and he wanted it removed but then Snape said, "This will keep you from talking," and Harry lowered his hand. He didn't want to embarrass himself further. His muscles were relaxed and his cock hard, but the desire to be touched was coming on slowly and not as strong as it normally did, so he remained on his stomach, pressed flat against the bed as he avoided looking at Snape and tried to make the potion hurry along. Snape did not attempt to roll him over. Instead, he pulled him back onto his lap again. Harry awkwardly straddled Snape's legs. Snape was not as hard as he had been the night before and his cock rested on top of his closed thighs, pressing against Harry's balls. Harry was about to tell him that he was far too lucid to do this when Snape's fingers lightly stroked Harry's nipples. The potion must've kicked in just then because it felt really good and Harry moaned. He tried to press himself against Snape's fingers as they played him so perfectly, knowing just how to touch him to make his cock fill with excitement. Harry melted back against Snape, letting himself fall into the pleasure offered by Snape's skilled hands. They roamed over his torso, finding other spots to stroke and caress, although none made him writhe and moan like having his cock or nipples touched did. After teasing his chest and stomach until he was wet with anticipation, Snape's fingers slowly circled Harry's inner thighs. Harry wanted his cock touched so badly but Snape wouldn't give it to him yet, so he crawled forward off Snape's lap and lay on the bed before Snape with his legs spread. Hopefully, Snape would get the hint and he wouldn't have to take off his gag and say something embarrassing. Snape did and soon Harry smelled strawberries. The spells were quickly cast and then Snape had two fingers inside of him, finding that perfect spot with each stroke. Harry thrust his hips back against the invading digits, rubbing himself against the sheets as he did so. He was close to blowing before long and he had to hold himself still so he wouldn't lose it on the sheets. He wanted to come with Snape inside of him so that he'd get the full force of the ecstasy of sex orgasms. He grabbed the pillow and placed it under his stomach, remembering how this position had frustrated him last time. If Snape took him as he had done the night before Harry knew he'd explode with pleasure at the first thrust. Snape finally slid in, going ever so slowly as he opened Harry up. He held Harry's hips until Harry could feel his balls pressed against his own, then pale hands appeared on either side of his shoulders. As Snape started to thrust, Harry turned from the left arm, not wanting to see the Dark Mark while he was being fucked. Even with the angle wrong it was still good and Snape's slow, deep rocks built such pleasure in him that he soon needed to come or he would die of frustration. He wiggled around until he found a way to free his trapped penis and rub it against his pillow. It was just enough friction to give him what he needed and he screamed around the gag as he came, emptying himself completely on the sheets. Snape rocked into him faster and his breaths becoming shorter and shorter before his hips jerked and he came with what sounded like "fuck" spilling from his lips. Harry had never heard Snape say a dirty word during sex before, and it amused him. Carefully, Snape pulled out and lay on the bed beside Harry as he caught his breath. Rolling over, Harry pressed himself against Snape, laying his head on his chest. He loved the feel of flesh on flesh as Snape's warm heat seeped into his limbs. He could hear the heart beneath his ear pounding wildly in excitement. Snape untied the gag and then let one of his hands fall to rest on the small of Harry’s back. Harry didn't feel as euphoric as he normally did for some reason, but it still felt very nice to lie in Snape's half embrace. Perhaps he had got used to sex orgasms now and that was why he didn't feel as ecstatic as he had those first few times. Snape lay there until his heart beat returned to normal, then moved to leave after casting the cleaning spells, but Harry didn't want him to go. He thought quickly and said, "I forgot to put the lotion on my muscles after practice today. Can you help me with it? My body doesn’t want to move right now." His plot worked because Snape paused in his dressing. "I will." He left and returned shortly with the vial and several towels. "Scoot over - we don't want any of the lotion to get on the sheets." Sliding over, Harry helped him spread out the towels, lying on them face up. Snape's massaging strokes felt wonderful and Harry relaxed as the heavy caresses turned him to mush. He never wanted it to end, so he forced himself to be quiet so Snape wouldn't leave. He was hard again by the time Snape turned him over to rub the lotion into his back, but the potion took away any shame about being erect in front of Snape. "That was good for Voldemort, right?" Part of him hoped it wasn't. "Yes, it was fine. I might gag you more often so I don't have to hear your incessant babbling." "I don’t talk that much," Harry protested. "Yes, you do," insisted Snape. "Although I don't think you are aware of everything you say." "What d'you mean?" Harry wished Snape hadn't passed so quickly over his arse. Snape said stiffly, "For example, unless I am terribly mistaken, I don't believe that Miss Weasley is in possession of male genitalia." "What?" Harry's face heated up and he covered his head with his pillow. How had Snape known about his dream? "What did I say?" "The comment is not fit to repeat." Snape's hands moved quicker and Harry could tell he was embarrassed. Oh god, it was a good thing Snape had gagged him. Harry hated to think about what sort of crazy things he told Snape while in the middle of sex. It was all the fault of the drug. It was probably a good thing it didn't seem to work as well as it had before. Otherwise he'd be saying more strange things right now. Then again, it had been so slow to kick in this time that he worried he'd wouldn't be affected by it at all next time. "You should give me more of that potion. It doesn't seem to work as well now." Harry placed the pillow back under his head and closed his eyes as Snape massaged the lotion into the back of one of his arms. "I've been decreasing the dose to help ease you off of it. If the Dark Lord showed up in the middle of a session, we'd both be doomed." Harry didn't want to admit that he had said those words on purpose so he continued pretending it was an accident. "But I need it! It almost didn't kick in this time and if it hadn't I wouldn’t have been able to do it. I can't do it without the potion.” "You must find a way. Until Avery is dead or disabled, we must put on this show." Snape's hand movements became clinical and quick. "I assure you, I detest this just as much as you." "Yeah, I know, I figured it all out earlier." Harry propped himself up on his elbows so Snape could better access his shoulders. "I know why you won't look me in the eyes during sex." "What?" Snape's hands stilled. "I know." Harry tried to get Snape to move his hands again. "I wish we could do it looking at each other because I feel better knowing that it's you and not some random Death Eater, but I understand why you don't want to." Snape's fingers remained frozen. "I never wanted you to know," he said, his voice strange. Harry frowned. He didn't see why Snape didn't want him to know. "I would prefer it if you were gay, but pretending I'm a girl is different than thinking I'm a girl or girl-like." "What are you talking about?" Harry pushed himself up into a sitting position, covering his cock, which had started to soften. "You like to face my back so you can pretend you are having sex with a woman. At first it made me angry because I don't want to be thought of as anything but a man but then I realised that it was okay as long as you don't think I am a girl." Snape was quiet for a while before he said, "I don't think of you as a woman." "That's good." Man, Snape was weird about sex. Why would he be disquieted by the fact that Harry realised that he was pretending to fuck a woman? Maybe he did hate having sex with Harry as much as Harry hated having sex with him. Harry doubted that though. The top position was probably a lot more fun than the bottom. "Are you going to finish my back?” "Yes." Snape pulled himself together and returned to massaging the lotion into Harry's shoulders. His movements were very formal and he held himself stiffly as if afraid that Harry was going to suddenly try to bite off body parts. When he finished, he washed his hands in the sink. "Don't move or dress for at least fifteen minutes. Take the towels and place them on the floor. I will remove them when I return to provide you with dinner." "Okay." Harry lay down on the bed again. He still felt relaxed and calm although the high had worn off much quicker this time. Maybe if he was very, very good Snape would give him a full dose the next time. He really wanted it. The euphoria the drug had given him those first few times was amazing and just what he needed to help him through his captivity. He wasn't sure he could function without it. He knew he needed at least some of the drug in his system before he could allow Snape to touch him. He definitely needed it to enjoy being touched by Snape. Snape was strange when it came to sex. He obviously knew how to do it but he didn't like to talk about it with Harry and he seemed to hate it except when he was in the middle of it. Harry never thought that he'd be the one to try to trick Snape into having more sex with him, but it wasn't as if he wanted to have sex with Snape. He just wanted to have sex orgasms. It was the potion that made him agreeable to that particular type of sex and with Snape. He couldn't wait to get out of this prison so he could have sex with Ginny. The only good thing about this whole sex with Snape business was that he knew how to have sex now. If he had attempted sex with Ginny before, he probably would've just touched her boobs and then tried to stick it in. Now he knew that you had to do fingers first and touch and kiss until the other person was ready. The men in the wizard porn pictures the boys passed around the tower had always just thrust inside, but Harry knew that it hurt to do it that way. Of course, he'd never tell Ginny how he knew about those things. She'd never stay with him if she knew, and he wouldn't blame her. He was good at hiding things and she wouldn't have to know. He'd kill Voldemort, Avery, and Snape so no one knew but him and he was good enough at Occlumency that no one would ever figure it out unless he wanted them to know. Feeling satisfied, he fell asleep. 

~

He had a dream that he was free and lived with Snape and Ginny. Snape cooked their food while Harry and Ginny went to work as Aurors. Ginny refused to believe that Snape could cook and insisted that he ordered it all by post while they were gone.

"He can't cook!" she said while they ate a delicious casserole. "Everyone knows wizards don't know how to make food."

"He does and he taught me how to make bread."

"Even my mum buys bread at the store. No one makes it by hand - it's too difficult." She frowned at him. 

"It's not hard. He showed me how and it's pretty easy." Harry jumped to his feet and pulled out the ingredients to make bread. He threw them all together and mixed them in a massive bowl. When everything was combined, he told Ginny, "Now we have to let it rise."

The bread began to rise but didn't stop. It grew massive and swallowed the entire table. Ginny screamed, "What did you do!?" as she tried to beat it back with her fists.

Snape arrived and vanished the entire mess. "You added too much yeast, Potter."

"Sorry," said Harry sheepishly.

"Now get out of my kitchen before I hex you both," he ordered and they fled into the practice room, which was now a nice den.

"I told you," Harry reminded her as they sat on the largest couch. 

"Okay, okay, I believe you." She was snogging him and then he was caressing her breasts, and she was telling him he was so good at touching her.

"Yeah, Snape taught me how to do this too."

And then she was taking off her clothes and they were going to have sex when Snape opened the door, waking Harry up.

Snape stepped into the hallway and walked over to the bars. Harry groaned. He’d almost had a normal sex dream!

"It was just getting to the good part!" he complained to Snape.

"So I surmised," said Snape pointedly as he kept his face turned towards the table.

Harry realised he was naked with an erection. He quickly flipped a sheet over himself. "Where are my clothes?"

"On the floor by the foot of the bed," Snape responded as he left.

Harry found them and dressed quickly. He slid into his chair and attempted to read _Midsummer's Night Dream_ while he ate his stew. It was above his reading level and he didn’t understand what the hell was going on. After several attempts, he just gave up and returned to _Dracula_. Now that it was nearing the end, he eagerly read until the heroes destroyed the foul vampire. 

He wasn't tired by the time he finished _Dracula_ so he stripped and exercised. He hadn't worked out on his own in at least a week, but was delighted to find that he had improved through the training. The first month or so in the prison had drained him but he had managed to regain ground, and unless he was mistaken, he thought he had more definition in his abdomen than he had ever had before. He didn't want to stress his muscles, so he stopped before he needed to rest. He gave himself a bath in the sink and then dressed for sleep. 

Having the light on all the time annoyed him. He really wanted to be able to curl up in the dark. Maybe he could bring blankets in the cupboard and sleep there for a night or two.

~

"Get up, Potter. You won't sleep all day," Snape ordered, waking Harry from an instantly forgotten dream.

"Huh?" Harry rubbed his eyes.

"You will eat your breakfast and then train." Snape spelled food on the table and then strode away. 

Harry sleepily slid out of bed and ate the typical breakfast fare. Snape had figured out what Harry preferred and served him eggs, kippers, bacon, sausage, toast, and fruit. Harry did not feel well rested at all. He reckoned he had spent most of the previous night reading and working out. He wanted to crawl back in bed and fall asleep, but Snape wouldn't train him if he did that.

After he finished his morning duties, he sat on the bed and tried to keep his eyes open. Snape appeared and shot something from the tip of his wand at Harry.

Harry yelped and fell off the bed. "What the hell was that?"

"I told you I'd randomly test your reflexes. What did I tell you about tight movements?"

"I was half asleep!" Harry protested. 

"You should always be on guard. Undress and follow me if you wish to train today."

"Oh yeah." Harry stripped before following Snape upstairs. "You know how I asked you a while ago if I could see your owl? You said that you wanted to test my Occlumency and I've done really well with it, so could I see it now?"

Without looking at him, Snape said, "I wouldn’t be able to explain why the owl was in your vicinity if anyone arrived."

Harry felt crushed. How was he going to get his letter out without an owl? He made all his unhappiness show on his face. "I just want someone or something else to talk to besides you. Besides, you're smart, can't you figure something out?"

Appealing to Snape's vanity apparently worked because Snape said, "I will think about it," before he began the lesson. 

Harry kept himself distracted by thinking about the owl and how his letter would get out, then Ron and Hermione would come rescue him. It worked and he was able to avoid being hit even when he brought his full attention back to the room before him. He tried approaching various parts of the walls, pretending that Death Eaters were standing there, trying to kill him. Snape only needed to pause the attack when it was time for their midday break. 

Harry examined the ring Snape had. Despite being created with magic, it seemed as solid as real ones. He had just started tugging on the chain in earnest to try to pull the ring off the ground when Snape returned and he had to immediately pretend that he wasn't doing anything suspicious. The turkey sandwiches were made of the bread they had baked together earlier. Harry felt quite pleased when he tasted how delicious the slices were. After all, he had done most of the work. That dream he had had was stupid. He was sure he could make it again and make it right. 

"We will begin the next stage now," Snape said before eating his own sandwich. Snape had never eaten in Harry's presence, and Harry watched him in fascination. Of course he knew Snape ate food – he had at Hogwarts meals - but Harry had never seen him eat food since he'd been captured even when they trained for most of the day.

Snape realised Harry was staring. "What's wrong?"

"You never eat!"

"Of course I do," said Snape scornfully. "I just normally have a large breakfast and dinner."

"Why don't you eat with me?"

"It would be a sign of equality if I shared meals with you," Snape pointed out. "I'd have to do something distasteful in case there should be any unexpected visits."

"Something distasteful?" Would Snape have to have sex with him while eating? He tried to picture it but couldn't. 

"For example, I would have to make you eat out of a dog's bowl. Or feed you my scraps." Snape's scowl showed his disgust for both of those situations. 

"Yeah." Harry returned to his sandwich. "I wouldn't like that. Is that why you make me eat lunch on the floor and conjure a table and chair for yourself even when you are just drinking tea?" 

"Yes." Snape nodded.

"Oh, I thought you were just being a git."

"You assume that a lot." Snape sent the remains of his finished lunch away. 

"Normally it's true!"

Snape ignored the retort. "As I was saying, we will now attempt to begin the next phase of your training. I will spell some balls to remain stationary along the walls in groups. You will try to get close to each one in turn while they randomly send projectiles at you. I will also join the others, and you will attempt to get close to me whilst I aim curses and hexes towards you."

"Nothing that hurts," Harry reminded him. 

"No," agreed Snape as he cleared Harry's dishes and unchained him. Stepping to the edge of the room, he chanted as the balls separated into piles along the walls. As soon as he finished chanting, he shot a spell at Harry as each pile sent a ball towards him. Harry dodged the red shaft of light quickly. Concentrating on the spell instead of the rest of the balls almost made him get hit.

"Regard them all equally," Snape insisted as he and the fake Death Eaters continued to attack Harry. "Imagine you have a room full of Death Eaters against you."

"Okay, I'm going after Avery first." Harry imagined a black blob near the doorway was the most hated Death Eater and rushed it. He danced it front of it, imagining he was taunting Avery while the Death Eater tried to hex him. When Snape's spell disappeared straight into what would've been Avery's chest, he let out a whoop of delight. Confident that he had killed that Death Eater, he moved across the room towards Lucius who was the black blob against the right wall. It wasn't long before Snape's spell disappeared into his head and Harry moved again around the room. He took the Death Eaters out one by one. Finally, it was time to approach the most dangerous Death Eater of all.

Snape would be the hardest to get rid of and the one he most needed to after Avery. Getting in range of Snape was harder than getting close to the fake Death Eaters and it took him several attempts and near hits before he finally managed to get close enough that the balls headed towards Snape. Snape evaded the projectiles far too easily for Harry's tastes. Harry imagined he had a wand and pointed it straight at the Death Eater's chest.

"Closer," Snape ordered and Harry tried to do so, but was hit from behind with a ball. He pretended he wasn't and kept on his attack. 

"Stop moving so much!"

"I'm not going to stand still and let you attack me," said Snape before he pretended to dodge right while really going left and managed to hit Harry in the chest. Harry felt a tingle and looked down to see a boil where Snape had hit him. It didn't hurt but the boil was nasty looking. Harry stopped to stare at it and was hit by several balls. Snape froze them.

"Shall we continue? I will remove them when you are finished."

"Them?" Harry crouched in preparation for another attack. "You won't hit me again!"

Snape began the exercise again. "We shall see about that."

Harry tried to get close enough to punch Snape, but the Death Eater was quite talented and he couldn’t step within five feet of Snape without having to dash away to avoid being hit. Harry charged Snape when Snape stuck out his arm and caught him. 

"You must return to your cage, now."

Harry wanted to protest but Snape's voice was dangerous so he immediately turned and began walking back to his room. Snape grabbed his arm and hurried him along, nearly dragging him down the stairs. "Do not dress and hide the books under the mattress. He has arrived a day early, which isn't a good sign."

Harry knew 'he' meant Voldemort so he just nodded and did as Snape requested. Just in case, he decided to hide the clothes as well. Why had Voldemort showed up early? Did this mean he was going to be tortured now? The suspense of waiting for something to happen killed him, so he gave himself a bath in the sink to distract his racing mind. 

Snape arrived shortly with his hair mussed and his face red. "Follow me." 

If Snape had been tortured, what would they do to him? Clenching his damp palms, he gathered all his courage.

"The Dark Lord is very angry. You must bend like a tree in the wind for him. Do not enrage him," Snape warned as he pulled him up the stairs. Harry nodded and swallowed nervously. While the idea of Voldemort being pissed off made him happy because that probably meant that the Order had done something Harry would approve of, Voldemort was already a sadistic bastard when in a good. 

Snape pulled Harry into the throne room where Voldemort stood alone on the dais, six Death Eaters cowering on the floor around him. Harry couldn't see their faces because they all had their heads pressed to the ground. Snape pushed him towards the centre, then moved back to bend down and hide his face as well, as if afraid Voldemort would cast on him again if he remained upright. Harry instantly dropped to his knees, bending his head like the Death Eaters in what he hoped was an appeasing gesture.

"I will give this boy a taste of what I will give each of you if you should ever fail me again like you have done tonight!" Voldemort screamed at them. " _Crucio_!"

Voldemort's Cruciatus was the most painful thing Harry had ever felt. His body jerked violently and he screamed with a voice he didn’t recognise as his own. Voldemort cast another and another until pain was all Harry knew. Just when he knew he’d die, his skin started burning. Then every bone broke. His skin fell away from his limbs. A thousand knives pierced him at once. 

He couldn’t hold out. He couldn’t survive. He needed to make his Occlumency perfect, otherwise Voldemort would learn about the training. Retreating into his mind, he built up his walls. Inside his fortress, he ignored the destruction of his body. Although he knew he was being hurt; he no longer felt any pain at all. His body tried to slip away into unconsciousness but Voldemort always brought him back again and again until he had lost too much blood to sustain any form of wakefulness. Eventually, he fell into blissful sleep, his body finally as peaceful as his mind.

[[Thank you for your reviews! I really appreciate the comments. Please tell me more of what you like and what you don't!]] 


	19. Chapter 19

  
Author's notes: Harry’s hunting for the Horcruxes when he is captured by the Death Eaters and held as a prisoner/slave. Snape is positioned as his prison guard. Cut off from his friends and loved ones, Harry struggles to survive and hold himself intact. Snape appears to be helping him but can Harry trust the man who killed so many of his loved ones? For whom is Snape really working? How is Harry ever going to defeat Voldemort without wand or magic?  


* * *

He was enveloped in a cloud of warmth. He felt wonderfully relaxed and he wanted to stay in this place forever. Someone was stroking his hair as low thunder rolled in the distance. Was he with his mum? He faded away again. 

~

He was warm and happy when he heard a familiar voice.

“ _Legilimens_!”

He could feel Snape enter his mind but he was well protected behind the walls. 

"Voldemort . . . Hermione . . . Ron . . . Dumbledore . . . Sirius . . . James . . . Lily...." Snape was trying to make him return, but he refused to lower his walls. Outside was pain but inside he was safe. Nothing could hurt him here. 

Snape stopped speaking and was quiet for a while. After about an hour, Harry heard a different voice.

"Is his mind gone?" A voice he didn't recognize asked.

"Perhaps," Snape answered, sounding very displeased. "I can't access any of his memories."

"The Dark Lord will be so angry," the second voice whined.

"Then he shouldn't have tortured him like that!" spat Snape in anger. Harry was glad he was safe and didn't have to face an enraged Snape. "I warned him it was too much!"

"Perhaps if we bring another mediwizard...."

"He shouldn't have killed the others. I'm not a mediwizard and I can only do so much with potions." Harry felt his head being moved and a potion poured down his throat. Fingers massaged his throat and his body automatically swallowed.

"But you will be able to fix him?" The second Death Eater's irritating voice skittered around Harry’s head. "What should I tell the Dark Lord?”

"Tell him I am doing my best. I have put the other project on hold and I will work on the boy until I establish that he is dead, broken, or intact. If his mind remains then I will return him if I can." Snape's voice moved away as he spoke.

"I don't understand why it matters if his mind is broken. The Dark Lord can just possess his body then. The others won't attack their precious hero."

"If he is dead, then the Dark Lord can possess him completely. However, if any trace of his mind remains then a possession by the Dark Lord would be incomplete," Snape explained. "Whatever remained of Potter's soul would influence the Dark Lord's magic. It is impossible to say how much, and the Dark Lord doesn't want to take any chances. He will possess the boy eventually, but only when all trace of Potter is removed from this shell."

"Is that why he makes you heal him?" 

"Yes, he wants the body to be perfect. If the others should destroy the Dark Lord's current body, he wishes to possess this one." Snape’s cold hands touched Harry’s back, the fingers massaging something into Harry’s skin. 

"That's the project you are working on, right? A potion that will remove every trace of Potter but keep his body intact, right?" The unknown Death Eater's voice approached Harry.

"It is not wise to keep the Dark Lord waiting," answered Snape's stiff voice.

"O-of course." Harry heard the sound of retreating footsteps. 

Snape's fingers worked their way over Harry's body. Harry fell away again.

~

Harry was drifting peacefully when he heard Dumbledore's voice. "Harry, my boy, you must return."

Harry ran around in the fog until he found Dumbledore sitting on a bench. Wearing the same robes he wore on the evening he died, Dumbledore had a twinkle in his bright blue eyes. "I know it is difficult and painful but you aren't alone."

"I am," insisted Harry. "You are the first to visit me since I've been imprisoned."

"I know you don't trust Professor Snape, but believe me, Harry. He will help you through this."

"He killed you!"

"I know you blame him for my death," Dumbledore's eyes grew sombre. "But I asked him to kill me. I did not want young Draco’s soul to be burdened with my death and I knew such an action would gain favour for Professor Snape with Voldemort. I wish I could have told you about our plan ahead of time, Harry, but until your Occlumency improved, I could not risk the chance of Voldemort finding the truth in your mind. I had to keep this secret from you to save Professor Snape's life. I hope you will forgive me for that, and all the other mistakes I've made."

Harry was too stunned to do anything but sit and stare at Dumbledore. Dumbledore had asked Snape to kill him?

Dumbledore continued. "Everything Professor Snape has done has been for you, to help you."

"Help me!?" Harry leapt to his feet. "He raped me!"

Ignoring Harry, Dumbledore said, "I know it is difficult for you to trust Professor Snape after everything that has happened between the two of you. He tells me what he is forced to do to keep you alive and safe and I know it weighs heavy on his heart. If you can not trust him to take care of you and protect you to the best of his ability, then at least trust him to train you properly in what you need to do.”

"I must go now." Dumbledore stood up to leave. "Remember what I told you. Return to us, Harry. We can't do this without you."

Harry didn't want to leave his warm cocoon but he knew Dumbledore was right. He needed to stop hiding and wake up. He couldn't train like this and he needed to defeat Voldemort.

He hadn't attempted to move since Voldemort had tortured him, so it was difficult for him to remember how to open his eyes. When he finally managed to wrench them open, all he saw was the fuzzy whiteness of the ceiling and the four dark bed posts guarding him.

"Harry?"

Snape never called him by his first name. Harry shifted his gaze to look at him, who was sitting by the edge of the bed, his eyebrows raised in concern.

It took Harry a bit to remember how to speak. "You never . . .call me Harry."

Snape raised his hand and lightly touched Harry's forehead as if checking for a fever. "I take it that your memory is intact?"

"You're the greasy git . . . who's guarding me while Voldemort . . . and his Death Eaters take turns . . . torturing me."

"I'll take that as a yes." Snape moved away from the edge of the bed and tapped the table with his wand. Returning, he pulled Harry up into a sitting position, propping pillows behind him. Harry realised he was naked and he didn't want Snape touching him while he was naked and in bed. He tried to push Snape’s hands away but his own wouldn't move properly. 

"I don't like it . . . when you touch me . . . without the potion."

"I know." Snape sat in the chair and a bowl from the table floated over to him. He scooped up some stew with a spoon and moved it towards Harry's lips. As much as Harry did not want to be fed like some small child, he had trouble moving his arms so he allowed Snape to feed him. He remembered the dream with Dumbledore but didn't trust it. He had had lots of crazy dreams because of the potions Snape had given him. He ate as much as he could stand before pulling away. Snape sent the stew away. 

Glancing around the room, Harry realised that a lot more items had been added while he had been asleep. In addition to the chair Snape was sitting in, a small table rested on the other side of Snape that was piled high with books and potions. A long couch rested against the far wall, pressing a small cabinet into the corner. 

"What's all this stuff in here for?" Harry squinted as he tried to see what else was in the room.

"The Dark Lord insisted that I resuscitate you as soon as possible," Snape explained. 

"So he can torture me again?" Harry practised opening and closing his hands. 

"I think that he won't touch you for a while after how badly he hurt you this last time," Snape placed Harry's clothes on the bed beside him. "He thought that he'd killed you. We all did, for a moment. How did you completely hide your memories while unconscious?"

"I don't know. I just . . . when he started to hurt me I knew I wouldn't be able to take it, so I built a wall in my mind and went inside of it. Isn't that what Occlumency is about?” Harry tried to pull on his shirt but it was too difficult, so he set it back to the side.

"I've never seen anyone do it so completely without magic. Even with it is very difficult, and you aren't a true Occlumens." 

"But you said Muggles could do it," Harry pointed out.

"Not complete Occlumency." Snape shook his head. "They can hide certain memories and feelings while making others more pronounced, but it is impossible for a Muggle to completely hide everything, especially while unconscious. It is possible you may have accessed your magic somehow. I can see no other reason that would explain it."

"If I could access my magic I wouldn't be wearing these anymore." He held up his forearms, showing off his cuffs. "Why don't my limbs work right? I want to train."

"You nearly died," Snape explained. "It will take some time before you are ready to train again."

"I need to train," Harry insisted. He tried to climb out of bed but fell to the floor. Snape smoothly caught him and returned him to the mattresses. 

"Don't push yourself - you will only make it worse." Snape removed his hands as Harry covered himself again with a bed sheet. "We will do target practice until you can move again. Your muscles were over stimulated and need some time to calm down. I'll bring you a book to read." He left.

Harry attempted to pull on his pyjama bottoms but it took him several minutes before he was finally able to slide them over his hips. How long had he been out? He hoped he hadn't been unconcious for too long. He needed to train. Had Snape stayed in his rooms the entire time? That was a creepy thought.

Snape returned and handed him a large, thin book. Across the cover were the words _Undersea Life_. Harry opened it to find large, colourful photos of various sea creatures on almost every page. 

"I have some business to attend to, but I will return shortly. You may begin training once I return." Snape put his hand over the pages of the book so that Harry would look up at him instead of at the photos. "Don't move or I will sedate you instead."

"I won't," Harry promised, knowing Snape would refuse to train him if he tried to get out of bed. 

After several hours, Snape stepped back through the library door.

"Did you know that the Box Jellyfish is the most poisonous creature in the world?" asked Harry.

"Venomous," Snape corrected. "Poison is defensive and venom is offensive. Furthermore, the term ‘box jellyfish’ refers to the class rather than a particular species and only some are venomous. I have been trying to collect nematocysts – the venomous cells," he added when he saw Harry's look of confusion, "from the species _Chironex fleckeri_ for some time."

"Why that one?" asked Harry curiously.

"Their venom can kill in four minutes, faster than any other known creature. Furthermore, they are fairly large - their tentacles can grow over three meters in length and an individual jellyfish can have up to sixty tentacles. Although there are other creatures which produce poisons that kill or injure more effectively, the Box Jellyfish is relatively unknown among wizards."

Harry suddenly realized that Snape probably wanted the poison to try to destroy Harry's soul. The bastard had probably assumed that Harry was completely unconscious until he opened his eyes. As much as Harry wanted to yell at Snape, he wanted to be trained so he pretended that nothing was wrong. 

Snape sent all the recently added furniture away. After the room was cleared except for its original items, the balls floated into the hallway. Snape removed the laser pointer from his robes and handed it to Harry. 

"Now, I want you to practise remaining as still as possible while shooting down the projectiles. Sit in the centre of your bed and look straight ahead at the opposite wall. Without turning your head, I want you to aim at objects in the corner of your field of vision. First, practise with your left side and then your right. Do you understand the task?" He flicked his wand and the balls shimmied around the walls of the room.

"Yes," Harry nodded. He clicked on the pointer and targeted a ball he could just barely see. 

"I should return before you finish, if not, stay on your bed and try not to move." Snape left.

Although his body had got worse, his vision hadn’t changed. It didn't take him long to knock down all the balls only using a tiny sliver of the left side of his field of vision. Immediately after the last ball hit the ground, they rose up again and took up their dance along the walls. Harry was about to start when he realised really needed to pee. Although Snape had ordered him to stay in bed, Harry didn’t feel like waiting for him to return. 

Setting down the laser pointer, Harry scooted to the edge of the bed and set his feet on the floor. He tried to stand, but his legs gave out, sending him to the floor. Somehow, he managed to catch himself. Again he tried to stand, but his legs shook so much, he had to crawl to the toilet. 

Crawling wouldn’t help him with training, so he headed to the table, pulling himself up on his feet. Clinging to the side, he made his way slowly past the sink, towards the toilet. He’d almost reached it when Snape stormed in.

"I told you to stay in bed!"

"I had to pee!" Harry angrily yelled back.

Snape stepped through the bars and took Harry's arm. "Lean against me."

Harry pulled away. "No way, I can do this on my own."

Snape maintained his grip. "You can but you will injure your muscles. Don’t worry; I will release you once we reach the toilet."

Harry could accept that, so he allowed Snape to help him over. He braced himself against the lid with one hand while he pushed down his bottoms and removed his penis with his other. It was difficult to do and it took forever, but he was determined to do it on his own. Snape wisely recognised Harry's resolve and did not attempt to help him. When Harry finished, he tucked himself away and then allowed Snape to help him to the sink. He washed his hands and then made it back to the bed mostly on his own. 

"Do you want to rest?" Snape raised his wand at the balls, which he had halted when he arrived.

"No, I’m hungry." He slid towards the edge of the bed in anticipation of approaching the table.

"Stay in the bed, I will bring it to you." Snape tapped the table with his wand and another bowl of stew appeared. He conjured a bed tray for Harry and placed the stew on top of it. The stew was chicken this time and Harry ate it without any help. 

"You should take a bath soon."

"You are not helping me with that." Harry scowled at him.

"I will not help you anymore than necessary. However, it would behoove you to regard my assistance as a form of servitude rather than a display of dominance," Snape suggested. "I am trapped in this macabre play just the same as you."

"You will always have dominance here unless I get to be the man in bed." Harry glared at the dark smudge that was Snape.

"I have no desire to lie with you anymore than is absolutely necessary and I most assuredly can not share that image with the Dark Lord," said Snape stiffly. He spelled the balls to begin their dance again. "After you finish your training, you will have a bath."

Snape's insistence on control infuriated Harry. "I'd like to take the bath first. It isn't like I will sweat with this work out."

"Very well." Snape agreed too easily to pacify Harry’s annoyance.

Harry pushed his stew to the side and got onto his feet. Snape offered his arm and Harry reluctantly took it, although he avoided touching Snape’s body as much as possible. Snape helped him all the way, even into the bathtub, then stepped away. Harry stripped off his bottoms and tossed them to the side. He opened the taps and poured in bubble bath. 

"What if I put the muscle potion on afterwards? Will that help me heal faster?"

"No, you just need time."

"How long did I sleep for?" Harry shampooed his hair.

"Three days," came the reply.

"What was Voldemort angry about in the first place?" Harry asked when he emerged from the water after rinsing off.

"I cannot say."

Harry whirled to face him. "Why not? I mastered Occlumency."

"Potter, I know you don't trust me. You have your secrets, and I have mine."

As much as Harry wanted to argue that he didn't have any secrets from Snape, Snape always knew when he was lying so he didn't try. He was curious as to why Snape refused to tell him why Voldemort was so angry. It was something to do with the Order no doubt, but why would it be necessary to keep the Order’s business a secret? 

After Harry finished cleaning himself, he carefully climbed out to dry off. He already felt much better than he had before he had entered the bathroom. The food had left him feeling refreshed and he thought he could make it back to his cell on his own. He knew he could make it if he crawled or used a crutch but he didn't want to show such weakness in front of Snape. After he pulled his bottoms back on, he shakily got to his feet. 

"Let me try it on my own."

"All right."

Harry paced himself and managed to make it to the bars on his own, although he had to grab onto them for support once he reached them. Once he had gathered himself, he carefully stepped through the entrance and then used the bars to support himself as he made his way back to his bed. He was very grateful to climb onto the mattresses. Who would have thought that such a short walk could be so tiring?

Snape spelled the balls to begin the exercise again and found the laser pointer, which Harry had lost.

"If you need me, bang your cuffs against the bars," Snape said before he walked off.

It was the first time he hadn't told Harry to only do it in an emergency, and Harry was tempted to think of ways to annoy Snape, but he wanted to train first, so he put the thoughts from his mind and picked up the pointer. It was a bit too easy for him so he practised closing his eyes one at a time and trying to pick off the projectiles. That was harder to do and it took him quite a bit to finish. After the last ball fell to the floor, Harry put the pointer on the floor and slid under the covers. He fell asleep quickly.

~

He woke up in the morning when Snape arrived to bring him breakfast. Snape served it to him in bed. There were loads more items this time. Porridge with many toppings, scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, fluffy biscuits, and orange juice graced his tray. Snape had been right when he said that focusing on how he was serving Harry was better than focusing on how he was controlling him. What else he could get Snape to do besides bring him breakfast in bed? He was sure that he could get Snape to bathe him but he didn't like that idea.

"I'd like some mangoes. D'you have any?"

"Yes, I can get you some." Snape left the room.

Harry couldn't help but grin. He wanted to ask for something else but he thought Snape would be suspicious if he did, so he accepted the cut up mangoes with thanks and finished his breakfast.

"What sort of training will I do today?" 

"Do you think you could stand for long periods of time?" Snape cleared away the finished tray.

"Yeah, I feel loads better than I did yesterday." Harry tested his muscles, finding them far more obedient than they had been the day before.

"Good." Snape sent the table and chairs out into the hallway. "Go stand in the centre of the room. You will practise tight movements again, but against actual spells. Point your wand arm towards me and dodge using as little movement as you possibly can.”

Harry nodded to show he understood as he walked to the centre. A flash of red zoomed towards him and he shifted ever so slightly to the right to avoid it. Snape cast again and again but it was no trouble dodging. He quickly grew bored with the exercise. Spells were smaller than the balls had been, and if he could dodge six balls at the same time, getting out of the way of one tiny spell was nothing.

Snape stopped the exercise right before Harry was about to ask for something harder. He stepped in through the bars and approached Harry. "Now, we will try it blindfolded."

"Blindfolded?" Harry asked in alarm. "No way in hell am I going into the final battle blindfolded."

"I want you to learn how to use other senses besides your sight for detecting the approach of spells. Don't worry, I won't send anything harmful towards you. I will start by aiming around you rather than at you. I want you to try to guess when a spell is passing." Snape pulled out the strip of black cloth he had used to gag Harry and tied it over Harry’s eyes instead. 

Harry listened as Snape walked back to the other side of the bars. He heard a slight sizzle shortly as a magic spell passed him. Snape cast again and again, and Harry strained to identify magic by sound, feel, and smell. He had already noticed that some spells gave off a trace that remained on the individual after they had been cast. The Cruciatus left a particular smell and magical residue. The one that Snape was casting had no smell, and sounded a bit like cooking grease. 

"Now, you must stay very still for this next part. If your legs feel weak then sit down but do not move to the side. I am going to cast various spells towards you that the Death Eaters will probably cast against you in the final battle. They will pass you by as long as you remain completely still. I want you to pay attention to how each spell slightly differs. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir." It was kind of exciting and he couldn't wait to try dodging with the blindfold.

Snape cast a variety of spells, some non-verbally but most verbally. He cast all three Unforgivables, although the Killing Curse missed Harry by a rather large margin. Harry didn’t need it to come closer. He’d recognise the signs of that spell anywhere. As the spells passed, he turned his head towards them, trying to feel the signs of their passing. Magic had a very distinct feel that he couldn't quite place. It reminded him a bit of electricity and the smell of the spells reminded him of the air after lightning struck a tree in the Dursley's front lawn. 

"Very good. I think you are ready to try dodging. I will return to using Furnunculus. If you get hit, don't stop. I do not expect you to be able to dodge perfectly at first." 

Harry was determined to dodge perfectly. When the first spell sped towards him, he dodged it by more than he thought he needed to. He could feel it pass by him harmlessly. More came at him and he dodged them all. He started to tighten his movements, trying to avoid the spells with almost no effort on his part. 

After he had been on his feet for what felt like hours and had not been hit once, his legs gave up and he crumpled to the floor. Snape stepped through the bars.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, my legs just stopped working." Harry pulled off the blindfold.

"You should've told me when they began to grow tired." Snape offered a hand. Harry took it and stumbled to his bed.

"I wanted to keep practicing. I did it, I avoided everything." He’d improved a lot in such a short time.

"Yes, you did." Snape stepped away as soon as Harry was in his bed. "I think you demonstrated your mastery over that particular exercise well enough. I expected it to take longer and I don't have a second lesson planned for this afternoon." He served Harry lunch, which consisted of fish in a creamy sauce, steamed vegetables, and mashed potatoes.

The delight that he surpassed Snape's expectations almost made up for the fact that he wouldn't have a second lesson to look forward to. "Can't I go back to dodging lots of balls at once?"

"I think it is still a bit too early for that. You should be fine by tomorrow. Did you finish _Midsummer's Night Dream_?"

"I didn't get it," admitted Harry sheepishly.

"With the lack of literature courses at Hogwarts I don't blame you. I’ll find another book for you." He left for the library.

Harry had a flash of inspiration. Since Snape was being so agreeable, if Harry pretended that he needed to take a break while passing through the library, Snape would probably not object to him sitting down on one of the couches to catch his breath. Maybe Harry would finally get his hands on _Frankenstein_. 

Snape returned with a large, thick book.

" _Comos Carl Sagan_ ," read Harry.

"I do not know if you enjoyed your Astronomy lessons," said Snape stiffly, "But this book is interesting even if you disliked what you were taught at Hogwarts."

Harry opened it to find gorgeous paintings and beautiful photographs stuffed between the texts. He was not a fan of Astronomy, but the pictures were far more interesting than anything he had seen through the telescopes at school so if the book itself was boring he could just look at the illustrations and photographs. 

“I will return to give you dinner,” Snape informed him before leaving.

Harry found _Cosmos_ better suited to his liking than most of the other books he had been given. It was far easier for him to read even though it was all about science. He became engrossed in it and lost track of time.


	20. Chapter 20

  
Author's notes: Harry’s hunting for the Horcruxes when he is captured by the Death Eaters and held as a prisoner/slave. Snape is positioned as his prison guard. Cut off from his friends and loved ones, Harry struggles to survive and hold himself intact. Snape appears to be helping him but can Harry trust the man who killed so many of his loved ones? For whom is Snape really working? How is Harry ever going to defeat Voldemort without wand or magic?  


* * *

The door to the library flew open and Harry glanced up to see Snape enter his cell in a flurry of black. 

“The Dark Lord is here. Strip and follow me.” 

Harry put down the book and undressed. He hoped Voldemort was in a much better mood. He didn’t think he could survive another torture session. He followed Snape up the stairs but before they reached the throne room, he had an idea. He fell against Snape, pretending that he could still barely walk. Snape frowned at him but held Harry upright with one hand and led him into the throne room. 

Voldemort was standing alone on the dais. Harry kept his eyes downcast as Snape led him to the centre of the room. Harry collapsed before Voldemort and panted as if he had just run several miles. 

“When will he be restored to health?” Voldemort demanded to know. 

“In another few days, my Lord,” Snape was bowing on Harry’s left. 

Harry felt magical bonds drag him up to his feet, his head forced to tilt up and look at Voldemort. He pushed all his fear to his face. 

“What are your parent’s names, boy?” Voldemort snapped. 

“J-James and Lily.” Why the hell was Voldemort asking him that? 

“Who murdered Dumbledore?” The Dark Wizard sneered with amusement. 

“Snape.” Harry did not bother to hide the flash of anger that surged through him. 

Voldemort released Harry, and he fell to the floor. “You have done well, Severus. His mind appears to be completely intact.” 

“Thank you, my Lord.” 

“What do you have to share with me?” 

“Nothing, my Lord.” Snape sounded perplexed. “I thought you’d wish me to focus on his recovery first.” 

“Severus, you have demonstrated your ability to rape him without hurting him many times. I want to see him degraded.” 

“Yes, my Lord. I will not disappoint you.” 

“See that you don’t.” Voldemort stormed off. Snape remained bowed until he was out of sight and then got to his feet. 

Harry realised then that Snape needed him as much as he needed Snape. Voldemort was an impossible master. Even when you pulled off a difficult feat, as Snape had apparently just accomplished with his ability to revive Harry from near death, it wasn’t good enough. Voldemort was complaining that Snape hadn’t taken the time to fuck Harry when the Death Eater had obviously been busy trying to just make sure he was still alive! Even if Snape was planning to kill Voldemort so that he could be the next Dark Lord, Harry was still a vital part of his plans. 

Harry followed Snape down to his cell with ease. He had power here. It was in Snape’s best interest to protect him and make sure he trained. If Harry refused to train, then he would be screwing himself over, but he would also at least set back Snape’s plans, if not completely disrupt them. He had no intentions of stopping his training or making Snape have to work to give him lessons. Just the knowledge of the power he held was enough to satisfy him. He knew he could exercise it if he really needed to for some reason. 

“We will need to perform soon,” grumbled Snape. “Would you prefer tonight or tomorrow?” 

“Tomorrow,” answered Harry immediately. He didn’t want his good mood ruined. 

Snape nodded and spelled dinner on the table. He released the chains from Harry’s cuffs before he left. 

Harry brought over _Cosmos_ to read while he ate his pork chops. He had the feeling that everything was going to be fine. He’d look out for Snape and Snape would look out for him. Together they’d use each other to reach their own interests. Snape had dismissed Harry as stupid and would not expect him to be aware of his plan. Harry would play the obedient slave until he got what he needed. 

He read until he fell asleep. ~ 

When he woke again, he realised he hadn’t dreamed since his brush with death. He had always had pretty strange dreams since his capture so it didn’t bother him too much. He read until Snape arrived and then slid out of bed and walked over to greet the Death Eater to show him how restored he felt. 

“I think I can do full training today.” 

“We will do a full session,” Snape agreed as he summoned breakfast. He took the chair opposite Harry and drank his tea. “You will practise getting close to the Death Eaters again.” 

“I only had trouble with you,” Harry pointed out around his piece of bacon. 

“I still want you to start with approaching the fake Death Eaters first. Furthermore, you seem to have forgotten what you are trying to do with this exercise. I had the distinct impression that you were attempting to get close in order to punch me rather than attempting to get close so that the other spells would hit me,” Snape stared at Harry in disapproval. 

“I was trying to get the spells to hit you at first, but you were too fast so I switched strategies,” Harry admitted. 

“While physical force may temporarily disarm an unguarded enemy, I would not advise you to try to use such a tactic in the final battle. I am side stepping the projectiles because I know of your intentions. The other Death Eaters will not be so prepared,” Snape pointed out. 

“Yeah, but won’t they figure it out before long?” 

“Probably,” Snape agreed. “I am hoping that the confusion will distract them enough for you to take out your most dangerous opponents.” 

“So will I go after Voldemort or the Death Eaters first?” 

“Do not worry about that now, just focus on sharpening your skills.” 

Harry suspected that Snape didn’t know himself, so he finished off his breakfast and hurried through his morning routine, eager to begin the training. Once he had stripped, Snape led him up to the practice room which was cleared again. 

“First, we will practise dodging blindfolded again, but from spells cast at your back,” Snape explained as he approached with the blindfold. Harry nodded and allowed him to tie it. He heard Snape moving away and then Furunculous was cast. Harry hated having his back to the spells. He kept wanting to turn around, but he forced himself to remain still and dodge. It was a bit more difficult for him to do because of his distraction with having his back to his enemy and he was hit a few times. 

“Relax,” suggested Snape. “The difference you feel between this exercise and the one we did yesterday is all in your head. With the blindfold on, you are equally disabled, regardless if you face me or are turned away.” 

“I know, I just feel more defenceless for some reason,” Harry tried taking deep breaths to calm himself. 

“I will move around the room and cast at you from different directions.” 

Harry couldn’t hear Snape’s movements at all, but the spells started coming from various points. Snape made a full circle around him and by the time he was back behind Harry, the young wizard was no longer bothered by having his back to the Death Eater. He realised it was all the same really. After Harry hadn’t been hit for what had to be an hour, Snape’s voice came from right beside Harry. 

“That’s enough for now. We will take a break.” 

Harry jumped. How the hell did Snape move so silently!? He yanked off his blindfold to see the Death Eater chain him to the floor before leaving. 

Harry sat down and rubbed his legs. They felt a bit sore which annoyed him because he hadn’t moved them that much. 

Snape returned with lunch and placed Harry’s on the floor for him. Harry ate the sandwiches hungrily. 

“Maybe you could invite the other Death Eaters over to shoot at me while I was tied up and blindfolded. You’d tell them to miss on purpose of course and I’d pretend to be afraid that I was going to be hit by them,” suggested Harry. 

Snape’s sandwich paused on his way to his mouth. “That’s not a bad idea. It would also allow you to get a feel for the spells favoured by each Death Eater. However, I will not invite them here for that expressed purpose. If they become accustomed to being allowed to torture you while the Dark Lord is not present, they will become creative in finding ways to demean you without hurting you and request to do it more often.” 

Harry grimaced. He was sure they would find ways to make his life a living hell. 

“The next time they arrive on their own, I will see if I can arrange it so that I am already casting spells on you in that state and then I will invite them to join in before we have our talks if you are still inclined to pursue that course of action,” Snape mused. 

“Yeah, just don’t let them actually hurt me or do anything beyond that.” 

“I won’t,” promised Snape and Harry believed him for the first time. “Now, shall we move on to the second part of the lesson?” 

“Yes, sir.” Harry got to his feet. Their lunch, the conjured furniture, and the chain and ring disappeared. Snape created the fake Death Eaters and took his place along the wall. 

Now that Harry knew how to dodge spells without looking at them, it was much easier for him to get Snape’s spells to disappear into the clouds of black even when Snape spelled them to move back and forth along the walls as if they were trying to dodge. Harry pretended he had a wand in his hand and was casting on the Death Eaters on either side of his main target. After he had ‘defeated’ all the fakes, he approached Snape again. 

“I’ll get you this time,” he declared as he weaved and dodged the spells Snape sent his way. 

“That remains to be seen.” Snape easily dodged a ball. 

“If I get a ball to hit you, you have to say that I am the greatest wizard of all time,” Harry insisted as he easily detected Snape’s feint. 

“And if I hit you?” 

“Then I will clean my cell.” 

“You’re on,” Snape said with amusement. Having stakes made the game more interesting, and Harry began to move around the room in his determination to avoid being hit. Snape chased after him and Harry laughed with delight as he made the Death Eater almost get hit several times in his determination to take Harry out. 

Unfortunately, it was too much stress on Harry’s recovering body and his legs trembled and he tripped and was hit. 

“No fair! I’m still recovering and you are in perfect shape.” He pushed himself back up to his feet. 

“You agreed to the terms at the beginning, Potter,” Snape said and offered a hand. 

Harry took it and allowed Snape to lend him support while they returned to his cell. “Yeah, I know, a promise is a promise. But just you wait; I will get you next time. D’you want me to clean right now?” 

“No, you can do it tomorrow,” Snape led him to the bathroom and released him as Harry stepped into the tub. 

Harry turned on the taps and poured in bubble bath. “You have to give me cleaning supplies because I am not cleaning it with my toothbrush or anything like that.” 

“I hadn’t even thought of that,” admitted Snape as he took his chair. “That hardly seems to be the most efficient way to clean the space, so you can be assured that I will give you the same supplies as before.” 

“Good,” Harry scrubbed himself off. He was cleaning his penis when he remembered he had agreed to have sex with Snape today in order to avoid having it the day before. His length began to harden in his hands as he thought of sex. He tried to focus on other thoughts, but his penis remained annoyingly interested in sex of any type and he was fully hard by the time he finished bathing. Whenever he tried to think of something gross to make it calm down, his thoughts kept switching back to Snape. The smell of the Death Eater filled the room and distracted him. He was embarrassed by it but tried to remind himself that just because he wanted sex didn’t mean that he wanted gay sex with Snape. The potion would take care of the details. 

He kept his groin hidden from Snape as he tried himself off and wrapped the towel tightly. He walked back to the cell and took his seat carefully. Snape stood at the bars. 

“You forgot to put on the potion for your muscles.” 

“Oh yeah,” Harry muttered in embarrassment. The last thing he wanted to do was be naked in front of Snape longer than absolutely necessary. “Can I put it on myself later?” 

“You may.” Snape summoned towels from the bathroom and sent them to rest by Harry’s bed as he stepped through the bars to conjure dinner. 

Harry ate quickly. He wanted to get this over with fast because he was mortified by his hard-on. As soon as he took the last bite, he asked, “the potion?” 

Snape placed it before him and left the cell. Harry quaffed it and immediately went to the bed, dropping his towel on the floor as he did so. He lay face down, pressing his head into the pillow to hide his flaming face. He was so fucking hard. He felt as if Snape touched his cock right then and there he’d explode. He imagined Voldemort naked to try to make it go down. 

Before long, he felt the mattress dip as Snape entered the bed and his penis flared to life again as Snape’s scent filled his nostrils. He had taken the potion, so it was okay to be hard this time, although he was still nervous about being touched. He tried to let himself slide away into the euphoria but it was more elusive than ever. 

Wanting control over Snape even as he wanted to lose his personal control, he rolled onto his back and made a request he had wanted to make for some time. 

“I want to be on my back the entire time.” 

Snape did not respond, just lowered his head to take Harry’s right nipple into his mouth. Harry grabbed onto Snape’s hair and was about to push his head away when Snape’s tongue flickered over the nub and pleasure shot through his body. The potion must’ve taken effect because there was no way he’d find Snape licking his chest erotic without it. He removed his hands from Snape’s hair and let the Death Eater give him pleasure. 

The potion made his body eager for it and when Snape sucked hard on one nipple while working the other with his fingers, it was too much. Harry reached up like a spider and tried to pull the Death Eater down on top of him so he could rub his cock against him. Snape paused and removed Harry’s legs from around his own. 

“Not like this. Come here.” He took Harry by the hand and led him off the edge of the bed. Harry was embarrassed to find himself standing naked at the foot of his bed with an equally naked Snape. He tried to avoid looking at Snape’s cock as the Death Eater summoned his wand and did something to the bed but he couldn’t take his eyes off of it. It was long and thick, bigger than he thought it had been. He couldn’t believe Snape stuck that whole thing inside him. Where did it go? 

Harry knew that he was on the larger side. He had always been proud of his penis which was the only part of him that was bigger than average, but he wasn’t as long as Snape, although he was just as thick. It disappointed him but he consoled himself with the acknowledgement that Snape was at least half a foot taller than him and proportionally, Harry had a bigger size for his smaller frame. Furthermore, while Snape had certainly stopped growing, there was a chance that Harry would get bigger. 

“Climb on the bed,” ordered Snape, and Harry tore his eyes away from the Death Eater’s manhood to see that Snape had made another mattress appear out of no where. The bed was now about the same level as Snape’s penis. Harry climbed on it and perched on the edge, staring at Snape’s dark nipples while Snape gagged him. 

Snape gently pushed Harry’s chest back and he obediently lay back and looked up at the ceiling while Snape cast the spells on Harry and then opened the jar of lube. 

Harry felt a moment of panic as he realised he hadn’t lost control of himself. Had the potion worn off? He gripped the sheets as he felt Snape push his fingers in, and he was just about to rip off his gag and make Snape stop when Snape’s fingers brushed against that spot that made his cock leap for joy. The potion must still be in effect. He relaxed and moved against Snape’s fingers, trying to get him to thrust them more. Snape added a third and stretched him out before removing his fingers completely. 

Harry lifted up his head to watch Snape as the Death Eater got into position. He pulled Harry forward slightly so the young wizard’s bum was hanging out over the edge of the bed and then slowly pushed in, his eyes focused on his dick. Harry moaned with pleasure as he felt himself spread and fill. Snape pulled back out almost immediately before going back in again, his cock sinking deeper and deeper with each thrust. Harry clutched the sheets and thrust back against him eagerly. Snape’s cock felt so fucking good inside him, especially when it rubbed against that spot that made his cock drip precum onto his stomach. Snape wrapped an arm around Harry’s right leg and positioned the left to rest up by his right shoulder. He thrust in slowly but deeply, burying his cock completely with each inward stroke. 

It was fascinating to watch Snape’s face. The Death Eater avoided looking at Harry the entire time. His eyes had slid shut as soon as he pressed inside and when he opened them again, he stared down at his cock, watching as it was swallowed up by Harry’s body. Harry couldn’t see his face very well, but the line between his eyebrows was dark and the brows themselves were drawn in together as if Snape were angry or concerned about something. 

He was so busy watching Snape that he almost forgot his own need. Then Snape began to thrust even faster and having that spot hit over and over so rapidly made him need to come then and there. Harry reached down to grab his own prick and wanked himself just the way he liked it, his fingers sliding over the slippery head. He thrust his hips back against Snape’s body as the pleasure built and built and then he was over the edge, the cry lost in his gag as his semen sprayed out of his twitching length and his body clenched around Snape’s heat. 

Snape thrust into Harry faster and the line between his eyebrows grew dark as he neared his own orgasm. His hips jerked as if he had been struck by lightning and Harry saw his face melt into an expression of unguarded pleasure as the Death Eater poured himself inside Harry. He leaned forward, his arms resting on either side of Harry’s upper torso as he caught his breath. Harry could feel Snape’s cock softening inside of him and it was a strange feeling. Finally, the Death Eater straightened up and pulled out of Harry. Harry rolled onto his side to make room for Snape. 

Snape lay down on the bed beside Harry and the young wizard rolled back over and pressed himself against Snape’s side, throwing one leg over both of Snape’s as he curled his head to rest it against Snape’s chest. Snape did not object to the intimate contact, his rapid breaths stirring up hair on the back of Harry’s neck. 

They lay like that for a while and Harry wondered what he had been thinking when he thought Snape was planning to poison him and destroy his soul. That was the reason that Voldemort was keeping him alive. Snape was only just pretending to be making a potion to kill Harry so he could remain with Harry in order to train him. He wasn’t really planning to kill Harry; otherwise, he couldn’t become the next Dark Lord. Harry found that he didn’t mind that Snape was using him to become the next Dark Lord right now. The orgasm had left him very relaxed, and the way Snape’s arm languidly rested over Harry’s hip spoke of such protection and care that Harry almost considered being a Dark Lord together with Snape. Of course, Snape had to ruin it by removing himself from Harry too soon. Harry sat up and took off the gag as Snape cast the cleaning spells and dressed. 

"Can you help me with the lotion again?” 

“Next time, you will put it on yourself,” Snape insisted but he picked up the towels and spread them over the bed. 

Harry climbed on top of them and lay down on his stomach. Snape left the room to fetch the oil and Harry relaxed against the sheets waiting for him to return. 

“Can you please give me more sex potion next time? I think it stopped working for a bit,” Harry asked as Snape began to work the lotion into his back. 

“We are trying to ease you off of it, not increase the dosage. The small amount I gave you worked well enough.” 

“Please, I need it,” he insisted. 

“You’ve become addicted to it,” Snape said in disapproval. 

“You gave me an addictive potion?” Harry asked in disbelief. 

Snape explained, “Mentally addictive, not physically.” His hands worked their way down towards Harry’s arse. “You don’t need it to be happy or to have sex.” 

Harry tried to rise off the bed. “Yes I do!” 

Snape firmly pressed him down. “No, if I can do it without the aid of potions, then so can you. You will just have to focus on the pleasure of your body and ignore the loathing in your mind.” 

“That’s easier for you to do! You’re in the male role,” complained Harry. 

“As we are having homosexual intercourse,” said Snape distastefully as he moved to massage the potion into Harry’s calves, “both roles are male.” 

“You can imagine that you are having sex with a woman, but I can’t,” Harry pointed out. 

“Neither can I. You don’t smell or feel like a woman.” 

Snape flipped Harry over and began to work the potion into the front of his calves. 

It delighted Harry to hear that. He was so masculine that Snape couldn’t even imagine that he was with a woman! But then he grew suspicious. If Snape didn’t imagine him as a woman, then why did he close his eyes? 

“Why d’you refuse to look at me then?” 

“Because I don’t want to have sexual intercourse with you,” answered Snape with a sneer and it made Harry’s chest hurt for some reason. 

“Why not?” Harry asked before he could stop himself. 

Snape’s hands moved very quickly and methodically. “Many reasons, Potter. Does it not bother you to sleep with someone old enough to be your father?” 

“Not when I take the potion, which is why I need it.” 

Snape stepped away from him and washed his hands in the sink. “Go to sleep now. We will train more in the morning.” 

Harry knew that Snape wouldn’t give him more of the potion no matter how much he begged or argued, so he did not voice his complaints. As he started to drift off to sleep, he wondered why hearing that Snape didn’t want to have sex with him bothered so much. It wasn’t as if he wanted to have sex with Snape or wanted Snape to want sex with him. Probably just something the potion did. 

Feeling comforted, he fell asleep. ~ 

“Wake up,” Snape ordered, pulling the sheets off of Harry. 

“Mmm?” Harry sat up and rubbed his eyes. 

“You can’t train if you sleep the whole morning, Potter.” Snape spelled food on the table. 

“It feels like I just went to sleep,” yawned Harry as he slid into his chair. 

“You slept for nine hours.” 

“Really? It doesn’t feel like it.” Harry tried to force himself to eat his crepes. 

“Yes,” Snape confirmed as he sipped his tea. “If you are still tired, then you can return to sleep as we will put off training for a day.” 

“No, no, I’ll be fine.” Harry shook himself to try to wake up faster. “Just give me a moment.” 

“You need to clean your cell first anyway,” Snape reminded him. He motioned to the pile of cleaning supplies that now rested near the sink along with the grey nightshirt. 

“Okay.” Harry nodded. “Maybe I’ll make you clean when I win.” 

“That wouldn’t be much of a change,” Snape said dryly. 

Harry focused on his food, wanting to hurry up and train. Once he finished he pulled on the nightshirt and headed over to pick up the cleaning supplies. Snape cleared the table and left. Harry gave the cell a good scrub down. He even stripped the sheets off the bed and placed them just outside of the cell in a neat pile. He was polishing the table when Snape returned. 

“Much better,” complimented Snape as he examined everything. He levitated the sheets down the hall out of sight. 

“Lessons, now?” Harry asked as he stripped off the nightshirt. 

“Yes, follow me.” Snape opened the bars for him. 

Harry eagerly stepped through. “Will we do the same as yesterday?” 

“We will begin with blindfolded training and then move on to your favourite exercise.” 

“Where I try to kill you?” Harry asked eagerly. 

“Yes,” Snape nodded and handed Harry the blindfold. Harry tied it around his eyes and moved to stand in the centre of the room. He heard the balls and spells race towards him and he dodged them easily. More came and he danced around, avoiding them with little effort. He weaved and dodged for hours, even with the blindfold on. He ran into walls seven times before he learned the dimensions of the room. The balls were harder to dodge than the spells, especially because there were so many of them and he was hit a few times. 

“That will do for now,” Snape’s voice came from the side of the room and Harry heard the balls zoom to the side. 

Harry pulled off the blindfold. “How many was I dodging?” 

“Five,” answered Snape as he chained Harry to the floor. 

“Yes!” He sat down to catch his breath. 

Snape left and returned with lunch. Harry finished off his sandwiches quickly. “Can I have another?” 

“’May I’, Potter,” corrected Snape. 

“May I have another?” 

“Yes,” Snape left. 

Harry examined the ring again. He had noticed that conjured items tended to be less stable than real ones. He had the feeling that he could break out of a conjured ring if given enough time or the right kind of effort. He was tugging on his chains when Snape stepped back in the room so he pretended he was just standing up. 

“Thanks,” he accepted the third sandwich and began eating. Snape had brought another glass of milk for him and he drank that one too. 

“We should turn the whole house into an obstacle course and you’d try to hex me while I’d try to escape,” Harry suggested as he waited for Snape to finish his lunch. 

“I can not have you running free through the rooms,” Snape reminded him. 

“Then learn to run faster!” Harry rolled onto his back. 

“Besides, you have not managed to evade me in this room yet. The race would be over before it began,” Snape challenged. 

“Oh, we shall see about that.” Harry was determined to beat Snape. “Last time I was still weak from Voldemort’s handiwork. This time I am stronger and faster and when I win you have to acknowledge me as the greatest wizard in the world.” 

“And if I win?” 

“Um… you can lock me in the cupboard for half a day.” 

“I have no desire to do that,” Snape sent their empty dishes away. 

“You can give me a lecture on how I am stupid and reckless like every other Gryffindor, and how any one Slytherin is a million times better than me,” offered Harry. 

“I can do that anyway, but it is nice to hear you agree with the general sentiment,” Snape’s eyebrows shot up in amusement. 

“Hey! It was an example!” Harry protested. “Okay, well what d’you want?” 

Snape thought for a moment. “You will have to clean this room.” 

Harry was about to ask, ‘That’s it?’ but then he realised that Snape could be quite diabolical when he wanted so he nodded instead. After all, Harry hadn’t asked for much. He’d have to think of something better to request from Snape after he won this round. 

Harry got to his feet and stood in the centre of the room while Snape set up the exercise. He was itching with excitement to begin. It was almost as fun as a game of Quidditch. If Harry had access to a broom, he imagined it would be even better than Quidditch which was saying a lot. Pitting his skills against a wizard who had twice his experience made him feel quite confident in his abilities, even though he had lost. The fact that he was even able to lead Snape on a chase meant that he was pretty good. Furthermore, the only wizard Harry knew of who was more powerful than Snape was Voldemort. Harry didn’t know how much more powerful Voldemort was compared to Snape, but Harry had the feeling that if he could beat Snape, then he could beat Voldemort. 

The spells and balls began their confusing dance, and Harry first took out the fake Death Eaters even though they had gotten clever and avoided the spell when they could. Harry had to stand very close to them and let the spell almost hit him before he managed to get one to go through a Death Eater. It was difficult, but he was able to take out all the fake Death Eaters without being hit once by anything. 

Now it was time for Snape. Harry tried to lead him on a chase but Snape wasn’t having it. 

“Come get me!” Harry taunted as he dodged Snape’s spells. “I know you want to hex me silly.” 

“Are you scared, Potter?” Snape retorted. “You will never take me out if you persist on hiding on the other side of the room.” 

“I’m not hiding!” protested Harry. “I just prefer this side of the room. You should come over here and see… the light is so much better.” 

“I can see fine from here,” answered Snape and sent a rapid fire of five spells nearly back to back. 

Harry scrambled to get away from them and only just ducked out of the way in time. He realised then that his strategy had been a poor one. Snape was calm and cool, merely sidestepping or weaving to avoid the balls that did approach him. On the other hand, Harry had been dashing around the room and was already worn down because of the effort he had exerted in trying to get Snape to chase after him. 

He moved closer to Snape but it was too late for that round. Snape managed to hit him with a hex. 

“Okay, you won, but I figured out what I was doing wrong.” 

“Which was?” prompted Snape. 

“No way I’m telling you! I’m going to win next time,” Harry insisted. 

Snape sent the balls to the corner and led Harry down the stairs. “I think the entire house will be cleaned before that happens.” 

“Just you wait, I’m not going to lose next time at all.” 

“I think I will have you clean the throne room next,” Snape mused as he led Harry into the bathroom. 

“You really don’t think I can do it, do you?” Harry asked him as he stepped into the tub. 

“Potter, you are half my age, nearly blind, without wand or magic, and I know what you are attempting to do.” Snape opened the cabinet to retrieve the muscle potion and set it on the tub. “If you do manage to hit me, then you deserve the title ‘greatest wizard alive’ because it would probably be true.” 

That made Harry all the more determined to beat Snape. “I’ll do it. Give me enough time and I will do it.” 

“Hopefully that will happen within the next month at the very latest.” 

“Yeah, I don’t want to stay here any longer than absolutely necessary,” agreed Harry. 

“Nor do I.” 

“What’s the first thing you are going to do when this is all over? I think I’m going to go on holiday somewhere. Not Australia. I don’t want to encounter any Box Jellyfish.” Harry scrubbed his legs. 

“If I survive this, it will truly be a miracle.” 

“Don’t be so pessimistic.” Harry ducked under the water to rinse off his hair. “What place has the most poisonous creatures? I bet you’d go there.” 

“Australia.” 

“I’ve always wanted to visit there. It sounds neat.” Harry climbed out of the tub and dried off. 

“You just said you wouldn’t because of the jellyfish,” Snape pointed out. 

“I wouldn’t go there for my first holiday. I’d go to Capri or something,” explained Harry as he smeared the lotion over his arms. “I’d save Australia for later.” 

“I’m sure you’d manage to find the most venomous creatures by accident,” Snape commented. 

“Probably, which is why I am not going there first. Knowing my luck I’d get stung by a box jellyfish the first time I stepped into the water.” Harry said. He had trouble rubbing the lotion into his back and Snape stepped forward and did it for him. “Trouble seems to find me.” 

“I think you find it,” Snape corrected as he led Harry back to his cell. He spelled dinner on the table. “We will train more tomorrow.” 

“Okay.” Harry dug into his chicken as Snape replaced the linens and Harry’s clothes before leaving. Harry finished his meal, dressed, and reclined on the bed with the astronomy book. He felt excited about his training, even if he had lost twice in a row. Snape had said that he would be the best wizard in the world if he ever managed to get one of the balls to hit Snape. Harry felt pretty confident that he could do it within a month. At the very least he could distract the Death Eater with sex talk. 

He still didn’t know what to think about Snape. He had continued to be very agreeable towards Harry although the young wizard couldn’t imagine why. Harry appreciated it, he certainly didn’t like being insulted all the time, but it also unnerved him. Why was Snape being so nice to him? He didn’t think that Snape was doing it because his true nature had finally been revealed and he was really a good guy after all. Whenever Snape was being nice, his words and movements were stiff as if it were hard work to be civil to Harry. Harry still hadn’t forgiven him for the rape and he couldn’t help but wonder if Snape wasn’t trying to bring down his guard so he could do something horrific just when Harry least expected it. However, Harry wasn’t going to fall for the same trick twice. He still didn’t trust Snape and he was constantly waiting for the day when Snape revealed his true colours. 

Feeling confident about his ability to beat Snape at whatever game the Death Eater played, Harry put down the book and went to sleep.

[[Thanks for your reviews! Please give me more!]] 


	21. Chapter 21

  
Author's notes: Harry’s hunting for the Horcruxes when he is captured by the Death Eaters and held as a prisoner/slave. Snape is positioned as his prison guard. Cut off from his friends and loved ones, Harry struggles to survive and hold himself intact. Snape appears to be helping him but can Harry trust the man who killed so many of his loved ones? For whom is Snape really working? How is Harry ever going to defeat Voldemort without wand or magic?

* * *

[[No, I haven't forgotten about this in working on the bunny story. Thanks for your wonderful reviews. I've gotten some ones on here that make me want to write more and more. Keep them coming.]]

Snape woke him up the next morning by shooting spells at him. Harry was still sleeping when he was pulled out of his bed by Levicorpus. 

“What the fuck!?” He was immediately released and Snape pointed his wand at Harry again. 

“ _Obscuro_!” 

Harry dodged out of the way. Snape sent spell after spell at Harry but Harry dodged them as he ran around the room. Finally, Snape stopped and touched the table. 

“Much better.” 

“I can’t dodge when I’m sleeping!” Harry panted as he tried to catch his breath. 

“You will be able to when I am finished with you,” Snape informed him. 

“Are you serious?” Harry sat down at the table. 

“You should wake up when a spell is used in your presence and be prepared to dodge almost immediately after waking.” Snape summoned tea for himself. 

“So if I fired a spell at you while you were sleeping you’d dodge it?” Harry asked incredulously as he ate his kippers. 

“I’d wake as soon as you cast it,” nodded Snape. 

Harry stared at him suspiciously. “I think you are just looking for excuses to try to hex me.” 

“There’s that too,” said Snape with amusement. 

“I knew it.” Harry triumphantly finished off his toast. 

Snape calmly drank his tea. Harry was eager with anticipation and almost couldn’t finish his meal. Finally, he finished and hurried through his morning ablutions, dropping his clothes on his bed when he was finished. 

“You do remember that you have to clean the room first?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I can’t wait to get to the training part.” Harry danced on the pads of his feet eagerly. 

Snape led him up to the practice room, which was set up as a den. Harry had never seen it with its normal furniture, and he looked around with interest. Cleaning supplies rested on an end table along with the nightshirt. Harry pulled it on and began to give the room a thorough cleaning while Snape sat in a high backed chair and watched. 

“If I had known you were so proficient at cleaning, I would’ve had you scrub the dungeons for your detentions,” Snape commented as he watched Harry dust off the tables. 

“I would’ve purposely used the wrong kind of cleaner on your cauldrons,” Harry told him. 

“Hmph, I’m not surprised.” 

“It would be your own fault,” Harry informed him. 

“Focus on your cleaning,” ordered Snape. 

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t be so eager for me to win.” Harry rushed through his duties. As soon as he finished he stripped off his nightshirt. “I’m ready!” 

“So I surmised by your licentious display.” Snape summoned the balls but left the furniture. The fake Death Eaters gathered around the room but Harry had his eyes on Snape, certain that the Death Eater would try to cheat. Snape began the exercise and Harry confidently targeted each of the fakes. 

It was difficult for Harry to adjust to having furniture bar his path, but he figured out how to use it to his advantage. After he had taken out all the fakes, he turned towards Snape. He dodged and weaved and got close to Snape but the Death Eater was just too fast. Harry ducked behind a couch and plotted. He was close but he still wasn’t ready to beat Snape yet. He’d have to cheat. Harry caught the next three balls still hiding behind the couch. 

“Come on out, Potter. Are you giving up already?” 

“Not at all!” Harry launched himself up over the couch and flung the balls at Snape. The first two hit the shocked Death Eater before he realised Harry’s game and side stepped the third. “I did it!” 

“You…you cheated. You can’t catch spells and throw them at the Death Eaters!” insisted Snape as he stopped the balls. 

“No, you see, I was able to grab a wand from Macnair there,” Harry jerked his thumb towards one of the fakes, “and touching that wand allowed my magic to break through my cuffs,” he tapped one with his finger, “and I was able to cast those spells at you.” 

Snape stared at him. Harry defiantly stared back. Finally, Snape spoke, “That was very Slytherin of you. I’ll grant you this boon but only this once.” 

“Yes!” Harry punched the air. “Now you have to say that I’m the greatest wizard who ever lived.” 

“You are the greatest wizard who ever lived,” muttered Snape. 

“Harry Potter,” prompted Harry. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You have to say ‘Harry Potter, you are the greatest wizard who ever lived,’ otherwise you could be thinking of Voldemort when you say it.” 

“You are ridiculous,” Snape scowled at him. 

“Come on…” Harry pleaded. 

“Harry Potter, you are the greatest wizard who ever lived,” Snape grumbled. 

It was good enough for Harry. “Let’s go again.” 

“Lunch first,” suggested Snape. “Sit down on the couch.” 

Harry did so and Snape chained him to it before leaving. Harry felt triumphant. He hadn’t technically beaten Snape yet, but Snape had given him a compliment and Harry had the feeling he had impressed the Death Eater with his little trick. 

Snape returned and Harry eagerly ate the ham sandwiches. 

“Slow down or you will choke to death,” said Snape disapprovingly. 

“And then you would be denied your own personal house elf. I’ve decided that when I win again I want to see your owl.” Harry watched the Death Eater to see how he would react. 

“I can not guarantee that. Pick something else.” Snape calmly drank his tea. 

“Fine then, I will have you cook a meal entirely composed of my favourite foods,” Harry declared. 

“I don’t have unlimited access to groceries.” 

“Fine, I’ll make a list and if you can make them you have to. How’s that?” 

“If you win, I will do that,” Snape nodded. “I think it is far more likely that you will lose and then I will get a clean throne room.” 

“That place is huge!” complained Harry. 

Snape sent their empty dishes away and unchained Harry. “Did you think I’d make things easier?” 

Harry got to his feet. “Alright, let’s get this started. I’m already planning my meal.” 

“We shall see about that.” Snape attacked and they were off. Harry found he had preferred having the furniture around now that he had figured out where everything was and no longer ran into things. 

They hadn’t been exercising for long when Snape suddenly sent the balls away and hurried over to Harry. 

“Why did you stop the lesson?” Harry asked as Snape bent him over a table and chained his hands. “What are you doing?” 

“Be quiet,” Snape hissed. 

But Snape’s sudden change scared Harry, especially when the Death Eater made bonds appear around Harry’s ankles. 

“No!” He struggled. “Tell me what’s going on!” 

“ _Silencio_!” Snape stepped away from Harry and left through one of the doors. 

What the hell had just happened? Harry struggled against the chains but they were firm. 

The door opened and Lucius strode in, followed closely by a displeased looking Snape. Malfoy’s eyes roamed over Harry and the young wizard turned his face away in shame. 

“It will take a few weeks. I am currently working on a project for the Dark Lord that takes up much of my time,” Snape said as Malfoy perched in Snape’s favourite chair. 

“Not too much of your time, I see,” challenged Malfoy with a pointed look at Harry. 

“If I am to waste my time healing the brat, then I may as well take my enjoyment on occasion as well,” Snape retorted as he walked over to Harry. 

“I didn’t realize you were a shirt-lifter, Severus,” Malfoy sneered. “But it all makes sense now… I always wondered why you refused to fuck those whores.” 

Snape stepped between Harry’s forcibly spread legs and ran his hands up the exposed back before him. Snape wasn’t planning on fucking him in front of Malfoy, was he? Harry tried to speak to object but his voice was still taken from him. 

“Don’t you have business to attend to, Lucius?” Snape’s wandering hands found Harry’s nipples and began to play with them. To Harry’s horror, it felt just as good without the potion as it had with it. He could feel his cock harden in expectation. No, no, he wasn’t gay! He tried to pull away from Snape’s hands but the bonds held him steadily. 

“I can spare a minute to see Harry Potter humiliated.” 

“It will be more than a minute,” Snape informed him as he placed his hand on the small of Harry’s back and cast the cleaning and lubrication spells. Harry tried to scream at Snape to stop. He would do anything to avoid this. Snape could beat him senseless or make him clean the entire house. Anything but rape. “I have to prepare him first.” 

“Just give him a healing potion afterwards,” suggested Malfoy. 

Snape pushed a finger inside of Harry and the young wizard desperately tried to pull away. It felt uncomfortable, but Snape added a second, even though the first was already too much. “I am rather well endowed and will tear him if I take him without stretching him,” said Snape stiffly. 

“So give him a healing potion before,” said Malfoy impatiently. 

“That would dull his senses.” Snape’s fingers stroked over the spot that Harry loved to have touched while under the drug. He felt his penis thicken in excitement. No. No. No. No. He wasn’t gay! He hated being touched when he wasn’t under the drug. He screamed ‘Stop!’ over and over, hoping his voice would return to him. 

“Why don’t you give him his voice? It looks as though he is begging you.” 

“Lucius, if you are here to critique me, I assure you that I will do the same to you the next time you rape a woman,” Snape hissed at Malfoy as his fingers kept stroking. Harry had the horrible thought that Snape was going to stick it in soon and he’d be fully aware the entire time Snape raped him. And even worse – he’d enjoy it. 

“Fine, I have more important things to do anyway.” Malfoy strode out. 

Snape removed his fingers from Harry’s arse as soon as Malfoy left the room. “I will make sure he’s completely gone,” he whispered before he left the room as well, leaving Harry tied to the table. 

Harry shook with relief and shame. He was glad that it was over but he was full of loathing for himself. How could he have gotten hard? He hadn’t taken the potion beforehand. He remembered how the last time he had had sex with Snape, he thought that the potion had kicked in when Snape had given him pleasure but he had probably been sober the entire time. It was such a revolting thought that he almost puked. He had enjoyed it, enjoyed being fucked like a girl. 

Snape returned and released Harry from his bonds and Silencio. Harry sunk to the floor and curled into a ball, burying his face in his hands. 

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Snape moved towards Harry. 

“Don’t touch me!” Harry flinched away. 

“I warned you when this began that I would have to hurt and humiliate you if any unexpected guests arrived,” Snape reminded him. “You are safe now. He won’t return today. Don’t you want to continue your lessons?” 

“You made me gay!” Harry yelled at him. “You lied to me and told me you weren’t so I’d trust you. And then you gave me that potion so I’d like it even when I don’t drink it. I DON’T WANT TO LIKE IT! I’M NOT GAY!!” He had begun to hyperventilate and he had to stop to breathe. 

“You aren’t gay,” Snape countered impatiently. “The body will sometimes respond favourably to actions that are mentally abhorrent. I’ve told you this before. I don’t want to have intercourse with you either, but I manage to do so because my body reacts positively even though I detest it greatly.” 

“You’re lying! You’re gay! Malfoy said-” 

“Malfoy was wrong. If I told him that I preferred women, don’t you think that he would become suspicious as to why I wished to have intercourse with you? I refused to participate in rapes because I do not find rape arousing so-” 

Harry screamed, “YOU RAPED ME!” 

“LISTEN!” Snape bellowed. “I didn’t want to do that either! I had to! I saw what they did to those women. You would’ve… you would’ve been damaged beyond repair. What I did to you was cruel, but it was nothing compared to what Avery would have done to you!” 

“You should’ve found some other way to stop him! I don’t care what you say, it wasn’t necessary!” 

“If I had known ahead of time, I would’ve found a way around that,” Snape responded quickly. “But I had no idea he had those intentions until I walked in and found him on top of you. I did the only thing I could think to do in that short time. Even when I think back on it now, I see no other option. I could’ve killed him then but they would’ve taken you away from me and that wouldn’t have stopped any others from raping you.” 

Harry shook his head. “You hate me. You say you don’t like it but I think you enjoy seeing me…seeing me hurt like this.” 

Snape was quiet for a moment before answering, “Are you not able to comprehend that my aiding you could be advantageous to me as well? The Dark Lord is not an easy master to serve. If you are distressed, you won’t train and if you won’t train, then I will never be free of him. Therefore, it is in my best interest to minimize your suffering.” 

Harry could understand that. Even if Snape was just using Harry to become the next Dark Lord, he still needed Harry’s help. Even if he hated Harry, which Harry was sure he did, he could still do his best to make sure Harry wasn’t hurt. It explained why Snape had kept saving and helping him all those years at Hogwarts even while loathing him. 

Snape took off his outer robe and draped it over Harry’s shoulders. “Come, let’s get something to drink.” 

Harry pulled the robe tightly around himself as he got to his feet and followed Snape into the kitchen. He took a seat at the table while Snape fixed tea. 

“How long has the potion not worked?” 

“I can’t say. I’ve been diluting it since I became aware that its use might be my downfall. You were developing a tolerance towards it before I started the dilution and would have eventually needed higher dosages anyway. I believe it still affects your system based on some of your reactions, it just isn’t as strong as it used to be.” Snape set a cup of tea before Harry. 

Harry cupped it in his hands, trying to get the warmth to flow into his body. “I believe that you aren’t gay and that you don’t like to do it with me, but… you get to be the man and I have to be the woman… I shouldn’t like it unless I’m gay. I should hate it.” 

“Being penetrated is not necessarily ‘the female role,’” argued Snape. “I’ve had intercourse with women and it is very different.” 

“But you’ve always been on top. You haven’t been… dominated,” Harry muttered, staring into his tea cup. 

Snape paused a moment before answering. “It is my understanding that you have feelings for Miss Weasley. Have your feelings for her changed?” 

“No,” Harry shook his head. He’d still love and want her even if she didn’t want him. 

“Then, at the most you can be considered bisexual,” Snape pointed out. “When you imagine yourself sexually involved with her, do you view it as a form of conquest? Do you think you will dominate her simply through the act of penetration? Do you desire to control her?” 

“Of course not! Ginny is strong. If I tried to make her do what I wanted, she’d say ‘no’ and maybe even beat me up. Her brothers would at least.” 

“Then why do you regard it as a form of dominance in your own situation?” 

“Because…because… I mean…” Harry frowned as he tried to explain. “She’d want to have sex with me and I want to have sex with her. I wouldn’t force her.” 

“It is true that you were forced originally, and therefore, dominated at the beginning... but you were dominated because it was forced, not because of the position. A woman can force a man into having intercourse with her just as a man can force a woman.” Snape argued. “Furthermore, we are both forced into this situation but neither of us is powerless. You have chosen to deny Avery his pleasure by engaging in this farce with me. If you wanted to, you could refuse to perform for the Dark Lord and take your chances with Avery. It is possible that he won’t gain favour again or that he is the only one with such intentions. It is a risk and I do not advise that course of action, but it is still an option for you to choose.” 

Harry wasn’t willing to take those chances. At least Snape was gentle with him. Avery would probably cut off his nuts or something. 

“The reason why they try so hard to degrade and humiliate you is because you are powerful,” Snape explained. “They fear you.” 

“They don’t act like it,” muttered Harry. 

“Oh, but they do. They hurt you because they are ashamed of their fear,” Snape assured him. “Eventually, they will lose their fear of you and regard you as nothing more than a toy and that is when you become the most powerful.” 

“How?” Harry asked suspiciously. 

“When you play the submissive slave, you assuage their fears and give them confidence in their mastery over you. This act pacifies them and lulls them into a false sense of security. When you rise up to destroy them, they will be completely unprepared to challenge you.” 

“I don’t feel powerful. If I was, I wouldn’t be here. I’d have my magic.” 

“You are too narrow in your view of the current situation. Yes, you are a prisoner and can not leave on your own. Yes, your magic is denied to you. However… you are close to your enemy. You would’ve needed to approach the Dark Lord eventually and you know by being here that he will be within your grasp each week. Furthermore, if you were out there you’d be on the run constantly, never knowing if Death Eaters would be right around the corner waiting to capture you. You wouldn’t be able to train as you are able to here.” 

“There is a task that I have to do for Dumbledore. I can’t do that if I am trapped here.” 

“I think Miss Granger and Mr Weasley have effectively handled that situation if my sources are correct,” Snape admitted. “I am told they were responsible for the action that compelled the Dark Lord to torture you, and they have yet to be captured.” 

Ron and Hermione were still hunting the Horcruxes? They had probably just destroyed one. Harry grinned. Only two more to go! 

Snape moved from the table and began to fix dinner. “Focus on your training and let your friends complete their task. You protect them with your presence here. If you had remained with them, every Death Eater would be trying to find you, just to be able to bring Harry Potter before the Dark Lord.” 

“I guess that’s true,” Harry nodded, watching as Snape cut up the vegetables. “I just feel that I should be out there helping them.” 

“You are helping them,” Snape insisted. He pulled meat out of the fridge and sliced through it rapidly. Harry watched the blade fall with interest. “Already you have progressed to the point where you should be able to kill several Death Eaters without a wand or even magic. There are not many wizards for whom that would be possible.” 

Harry was proud that Snape thought he would be able to do that even now. They hadn’t been training that long. Training always made him feel better. At least he was doing something. 

“I know I can beat him if given the chance,” he declared. 

“As long as you keep your head, that outcome is highly probable,” agreed Snape as he began cooking the meat in a large pan. 

“Have you come up with a plan?” asked Harry curiously. 

“I have one in mind.” 

“When are you going to tell me?” 

“When I believe it is necessary for me to do so.” Snape moved around the kitchen with ease, adding spices to the pan. 

The simple dismissal irritated Harry. “Why not earlier?” 

Snape glanced at him. “If I had told you a month ago that I expected you to destroy the Death Eaters without a wand or magic by getting close to them, would you have believed me?” 

Harry shook his head, “No, I would’ve thought that you were trying to kill me.” 

“Exactly, if I told you of my plan right now, you’d have a similar reaction.” 

“It’s equally as suicidal?” Harry was curious to know what Snape had in mind. 

“You could say that.” Snape nodded and began cooking the vegetables. 

As Harry watched Snape sauté the vegetables, he realised that he trusted Snape to help him through this whole ordeal. He didn’t trust that Snape had his best interest at heart, but he believed that Snape wanted Voldemort destroyed and would do his best to help Harry in order to see that happen. It felt good to acknowledge that he had an ally in this, even if his ally was a snake like Snape. 

Harry also recognised that he could trust Snape to be gentle with him when the Death Eater was able to do so. When Snape had offered Harry the potion the first time, he had said that he would stop if Harry really wanted him to. Harry hadn’t believed him then but now he felt that if he asked Snape to stop even right before the Death Eater orgasmed that Snape would. 

“Don’t take my voice away again,” Harry requested. 

“I can’t promise that I never will,” Snape said from the stove. “But I will avoid it unless absolutely necessary. If I ask you to be quiet, you must do so immediately.” 

“I will,” Harry nodded. 

Snape heaped delicious smelling food on plates and put the plates in a wide, black box on a counter. He added more items to the black box before pouring drinks and putting those in as well. “You must return to your cage to eat.” 

Harry got to his feet and followed Snape downstairs. Snape led him to the bathroom, and took out the muscle potion, setting it on the edge of the tub. He stepped out of the bathroom and Harry dropped Snape’s robe to the floor and took a shower. Snape returned when Harry was rubbing the lotion into his skin. 

“Your laundry won’t be ready for another fifteen minutes.” 

“That’s fine. Can you rub this on my back?” Harry handed the potion to Snape and turned around. Snape massaged it in with quick strokes before stepping to the sink to wash his hands. Harry wrapped a towel around his waist and padded back to his cell. 

Snape tapped the table in front of each chair and meals appeared for both of them, Harry’s twice the size of Snape’s. 

“I thought you couldn’t eat with me?” Harry remembered how Snape had said that sharing meals was a sign of equality. 

“I doubt Malfoy will be visiting again today,” answered Snape. 

“Oh, that’s good.” Harry felt rather clumsy eating in front of Snape, who had very elegant and controlled table manners. “I didn’t know you knew how to make stir-fry.” 

“I just ordered a new cookbook that has a variety of recipes.” 

“It’s very good,” complimented Harry. 

“It did turn out better than I expected,” Snape admitted. 

They ate in silence, Harry struck by the absurdity of sharing a meal with Snape. If he ever told Ron and Hermione even half of the things that had happened to him here they would never believe him. Harry wasn’t sure he believed it himself. Was this another trick of Snape’s? He didn’t think so. Snape had been suspiciously mild mannered and nice to Harry his entire imprisonment. Now Harry understood why Snape had reigned in his hatred. He was helping Harry for selfish reasons, to be sure, but those reasons compelled him to be nice to Harry. Never had Harry been so glad that Snape only cared for himself. Snape would do everything in his power to make sure that he made it through this alive and he needed Harry’s help to do that. Snape would help Harry right up until the end. 

Snape cleaned the table after they had finished. “I expect the Dark Lord to arrive tomorrow. We will train in the morning.” 

“Okay,” Harry acknowledged, watching as Snape stepped out through the bars and left. He retreated to his bed, curling up with his book. He fell asleep dreaming of other worlds. 

[[While this isn't a lot of information about the outside world, I do want to let you know that Harry hasn't forgotten about his friends and a bit of information to let you know what they are up to.]] 


	22. Chapter 22

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....  


* * *

[[Thank you for all your comments! I love them and I think my writing has really improved because of them.]]

Snape attacked him again in the morning, but this time Harry woke before the first spell hit. He scrambled to get out of bed but became tangled in his sheets and ended up pitching himself face first towards the floor. Snape caught him with magic and returned him to the bed. “That was very clumsy but better than before,” Snape said. “You have no idea how unnerving it is to open your eyes and see what looks like an overgrown bat standing before you.” Harry finally figured out how to remove himself from the sheets and slid into his chair. Snape spelled breakfast for him and took his seat, procuring a cup of tea for himself. “If I find a more successful way to get you out of bed, you can be sure I will employ it.” “If you put good smelling food on the table you can be sure I will be out of bed in an instant,” Harry assured him as he ate his omelette. “Probably,” acknowledged Snape. “But you must admit that is far less satisfying.” “One day I will have a wand and then I’ll wake you up with hexes.” “I would never sleep again,” Snape responded. “Not peacefully,” agreed Harry. “What d’you have planned for today? More of the same?” “No, I think you should practise aiming while dodging today.” “That sounds difficult,” said Harry cheerfully. “We will start with furniture in the room for you to duck behind, and as you improve, I will remove the pieces one by one.” “I can’t wait.” Harry hurried through his breakfast. Snape spoke quietly while Harry brushed his teeth. “It is unlikely that we will be visited before tonight, but it is always a possibility. If we are caught unawares during our training, I will do what is required of me and you should play along. I will try to avoid hurting you as much as possible, but you know it will be required of me at times.” Harry froze with the toothbrush in his mouth. Finally, he spit out his toothpaste. “Just don’t do…that. You can hurt me or beat me or whatever. Just not that.” “I will do my best, but I can’t promise you anything. It is easier to explain having you out of your cell for depraved purposes than for routine punishments,” Snape pointed out. “Then let’s bring the cleaning supplies with us whenever I train, and if anyone shows up I will clean the room for you,” Harry suggested. Snape considered that suggestion. “You are actually not supposed to be allowed in the vicinity of any chemicals that could be considered poisonous. I suppose I could gather a small collection of natural substances for you to use instead.” “You mean you would’ve gotten in trouble if a Death Eater showed up in the middle of me cleaning?” Harry asked incredulously as he stripped and dumped his clothing on the bed. “I hoped that ignorance of the Muggle world would prevent them from understanding the dangers of the chemicals if they caught you with them,” Snape explained as he led Harry upstairs. “If you are around them more frequently, then they will wish to examine them.” “Oh, okay.” Harry walked to the centre of the practice room which had its normal furniture. Snape tossed the laser pointer to him and he caught it deftly. “Am I targeting you as well?” “No. _Engorgio_!” Snape made several of the balls grow until they had a radius of a foot. He sent them to rest along the walls and turned all the normal sized balls different colours. “The large ones represent Death Eaters. You will target those.” “Okay,” Harry nodded in understanding. Snape flicked the wand to start the lesson, and Harry ran to duck behind the couch as balls flew at him. He wasn’t good enough to target while dodging more than a few at a time, so he hid behind the couch and took out the fake Death Eaters one by one. After Harry had ‘killed’ them all, Snape made the couch disappear and started the exercise again. Harry groaned at the loss of his favourite hiding place but resolutely began targeting as he moved around to hide between less effective shields. When he had won the second round, Snape sent the balls away. “That’s enough for today.” Harry wanted to keep practicing, but he knew he wouldn’t be allowed so he followed Snape downstairs. “It’s going to be difficult to learn how to target them while dodging without any furniture in the room.” Harry admitted. “You will do it in the throne room eventually,” Snape informed him as he opened the bathroom door. “No way! That place is huge!” Harry climbed into the tub. “It will be difficult, but I believe you can manage it.” Snape took out the potion and sat in his chair. “I guess. I think I need my glasses first.” “You don’t need them right now,” Snape insisted. “Focus on learning how to target without them. If you become reliant on them, then you will be useless without them.” “Yeah, I see your point.” Harry ducked into the water to rinse off. “I just hate being blind.” “Even if you were completely blind, you’d still have your other senses.” “If Voldemort takes out my eyes I am giving up,” Harry declared. “I don’t care what you say -- there is no way I could go up against him and all the Death Eaters while blind.” “He has no reason to remove your eyes,” Snape assured him. “He’s crazy! He doesn’t need a reason to do anything he does.” Harry climbed out of the tub and dried off. “I wouldn’t let him.” “I’ll believe that you can stop him when I see it.” Harry began rubbing the potion into his muscles once he was dry. “You aren’t in a position to be picky.” “Yeah, I know.” Once Harry finished rubbing the potion into all the places he could reach he handed the bottle to Snape and knelt before the Death Eater so Snape could rub it into his upper back. “Who will it be tonight?” Harry asked as Snape’s hands moved in quick but thorough strokes. “Macnair.” “Oh.” Macnair had said that he would cut off Harry’s body parts one by one. Harry wrapped the towel firmly around his waist and headed back to his cell. He sat in his chair and watched Snape spell lunch on the table before leaving. Harry sat for a while before eating. He tried not to imagine what parts of his body Macnair would be cutting off. He guessed he could lose an ear like George. That wouldn’t be too bad. He just hoped that he wouldn’t lose a hand or foot. The thought of losing any part of his genitals was too horrific to even contemplate, so he shoved it from his mind and tried to eat his meal in peace. He distracted himself with exercise once he was finished eating, but it wasn’t enough to calm his nerves and by the time Snape arrived Harry was pacing his cell in anticipation. “Don’t let him cut off anything important,” he insisted as Snape chained his hands together. Snape’s eyebrows moved in perplexity. “I won’t let him cut off anything.” Harry followed him up to the throne room. Macnair stood by a table set up in the centre of the room. As Harry slowly approached, he saw the Death Eater had a very evil grin on his face and the table was covered with sharp knives and other instruments along one side. He swallowed hard as Snape moved to stand by Voldemort and Bellatrix on the dais. “On the table,” ordered Macnair with a nasty sneer in his voice. Harry did so slowly, trying not to look at the wicked blades to his left. He lay down on his back as Macnair removed the chain binding his hands. “ _Immobilus_!” Harry could no longer move. Unlike the full-body bind, he could still breathe and his heart beat furiously in his chest. Macnair moved Harry’s arms to rest on either side of his torso. Harry could move his eyes and blink but could not turn his head. He stared up at the ceiling and tried to relax. “I just sharpened these: let’s test them out.” Macnair held a long, thin curved blade up so Harry could see it. He moved the blade away and then Harry felt a sharp pain in his upper right arm as the blade was pushed in. He closed his eyes and tried not to move as he felt the blade push through his arm and emerge on the other side. Macnair left the blade inside of him. “Nice and sharp, ain’t it?” Macnair asked in a voice heavy with lust. He picked up another knife and Harry felt him draw the blade across his throat, splitting his skin open. “One of these days I will have your head. I will remove your eyes first.” He pushed his knife into Harry’s face, right below his eye. Harry didn’t breathe, least the knife would slide and pierce him through the eye. He felt his skin break as Macnair cut down his cheek. “Let’s open you up.” He pressed the knife between Harry’s collarbones and very slowly and carefully cut straight down his torso, stopping a few inches below Harry’s belly button. He then cut two parallel lines, one connecting Harry’s armpits and the other from hip to hip. Harry figured out what he was going to do a second before he did it. When he felt Macnair start to peel back his skin to expose his chest, he became so hysterical he passed out. He was revived when Macnair slammed something heavy down on Harry’s left pinky. He heard the sickening crack of bone as sharp pain strummed through his body. Macnair repeated the action on the rest of the fingers in turn. Harry kept his eyes tightly closed, sure that when he opened his eyes he would find his chest fully exposed. He heard Macnair walk around to the other side of the table. No! Not his wand hand! Harry tried to beg him to leave his right hand alone but he couldn’t move his mouth properly and the sounds he made were all gibberish. Voldemort’s cruel laughter drowned him out as Macnair’s weapon fell on his right pinky. He sobbed helplessly as he felt his fingers break one by one. Voldemort was speaking after Macnair broke his thumb, but Harry was too devastated to try to figure out what they were saying. It was over; all of his training had been for naught. He would never be able to defeat Voldemort with his wand hand broken. Why hadn’t Snape stopped them? He had been betrayed by Snape yet again. He was ashamed of his tears but he couldn’t stop crying. Snape approached and pressed a potion to Harry’s lips. Harry drank it quickly, eager to fall into nothingness. ~ He woke in his room, his torso and hands heavily bandaged. He wanted to rip off the white strips of cloth and survey the damage, but he was scared of what he would find. He couldn’t move his fingers at all, and it terrified him even though he knew that the bandages were probably locking them in place. Snape walked into the hallway. “I am glad to see you are conscious.” “It’s over,” Harry whispered miserably, too despondent to express his hatred as Snape deserved. “I can take out the Death Eaters without magic, but I need my magic to defeat Voldemort. How will I hold a wand? You said you’d protect me.” Snape stepped over. “I will heal your hands.” “Why? Why did you let him do that?” Snape frowned. “I advised the Dark Lord against that particular form of torture, but he has grown a bit too reliant on my abilities as a healer.” “You should’ve tried harder!” Harry yelled at him. Snape’s eyes flashed. “Don’t you dare presume to tell me what to do! I’ve kept you alive, haven’t I?” “Alive-” Harry started to say scornfully. Snape interrupted him. “Yes, both of us are still alive despite planning to destroy the Dark Lord right under his nose. I wouldn’t have survived as a Death Eater if I hadn’t known when to ask for favours and when to remain quiet. I will stand against him when I can but I must remain in his favour if I am to remain here and train you. Although I would have preferred it had he never touched your hands, I didn’t let him do anything I was incapable of repairing. Give it time and you will be completely fine. ” “I don’t have time! What if he tries to kill me right now?” “He won’t,” Snape assured him as he spelled food on the table. He fixed the porridge just the way Harry liked it and brought it to the bed, pulling a chair to sit beside Harry. “I promise you, he won’t try to kill you while your hands are broken.” “How can you be so sure?” Harry stared at him in doubt. “I know how the Dark Lord thinks. When he comes to destroy you it will be when you are at the peak of health. He allowed it to continue because he believes I have the ability to restore you back to full health quickly.” “Do you?” “I have recently developed new potions and they have proven even more effective than I had hoped to anticipate. You may have noticed that it is rare for you to remain infirmed for longer than a day now,” Snape pointed out. Harry was still doubtful. “A day is a long time.” “If you heal faster, then they will wish to hurt you more often. I have enough difficulties keeping them from you between sessions as it is already,” he admitted. “I thought they weren’t supposed to hurt me when he wasn’t there.” “They don’t have to hurt you to torture you,” Snape reminded him. Harry bit his lip. As much as he hated Snape sometimes, he knew that Snape wouldn’t torture him unless Voldemort required it of him. The same could not be said about the other Death Eaters. He hadn’t even considered that Snape would’ve had to work hard to keep the Death Eaters away from Harry when Voldemort wasn’t around. Snape scooped a spoonful of porridge and brought it to Harry’s lips. “Even if he won’t come after me right now, what if we need to destroy Voldemort first?” Harry asked before accepting the spoon. As soon as the porridge hit his stomach he felt starved. Snape continued to feed him. “You aren’t ready yet. Still, he should be discouraged from ignoring my advice and allowing that to happen again. Pretend that your hands are stiff and your fingers damaged long after they are healed.” “And if they never do?” “If all else fails, I will remove the bones and regrow them.” Harry made a face. He hated the taste of Skele-grow. “I hope not.” “I don’t think that will be necessary,” Snape agreed. “Macnair was clumsy and did not do as much damage as he could have done.” Harry moved one hand to touch his bandaged chest. “Did he skin me?” “No, I just didn’t want you re-opening your wounds.” Snape explained as he warmed the cooling porridge. Harry relaxed against the sheets and let Snape feed him. When he finally felt full he said, “That’s enough, thanks.” Snape sent away the dishes. “There won’t be much for you to do until your wounds heal.” “Can’t I practise dodging?” Snape pulled back the sheet covering Harry’s lower body and Harry saw bandages around his thighs and calves. No wonder he had trouble moving them. Snape replaced the sheet. “You shouldn’t be on your feet more than is necessary.” “How can I train when I keep getting put out of commission?” Harry grumbled. “It will be useful for you to learn how to defend yourself when injured. If you wish to be an Auror, such training is necessary.” “Yeah, I guess,” Harry sighed. “Hey, can you teach me to be stealthy like you?” “I will do my best, but considering how loudly you normally carry yourself, I fear it will be an impossible task.” Snape looked doubtful. “I can be pretty quiet when I need to be,” challenged Harry. “I had to be quiet around my relatives sometimes. I’m just not as good at it as you are. How d’you walk without making a sound? I can do it if I go slowly but not if I tried to walk normally.” “There are spells you can use but it is all a matter of how you roll your feet,” Snape explained. “Place the ball of your heel down first and then roll towards your toes.” Harry moved to put his feet on the floor. “Like this?” He tried it out. “Yes,” Snape nodded. “Help me to the toilet?” Harry requested. Snape offered an arm and Harry pulled himself to his feet. He practised walking as Snape instructed as he made his way to the toilet. He was glad he was nude because he thought he would’ve made a fool of himself trying to lower his pyjama bottoms. Snape helped him back to his bed. “I can’t even read like this,” Harry complained once he was fully back on the mattress. “Not easily,” agreed Snape. “I’ll bring you another book.” He disappeared in a swirl of black. Harry wondered what the Death Eater meant. How would getting another book help him? Snape returned with a book even larger than Cosmos. Harry accepted it, balancing it on his thighs. _Art Through the Ages_. He found he could turn the huge pages even with his heavily bandaged fingers. “I’m not a fan of art,” he said, “but it’s better than nothing.” “I’ve only recently learned to appreciate it myself,” Snape admitted. “I have brewing to attend to so I must leave now. I will return to bring you lunch.” He left. Harry slowly flipped through the art book. On one side of the page was a picture of the work, on the other side was a description of the piece. Harry loved Greek art. The sculptures looked as though they would burst to life any minute and he appreciated all the naked women. He ignored his hardening penis, as he didn’t think there would be any way for him to masturbate properly with his hands so confined. He tried to focus on the male forms instead of the female, but his disobedient organ refused to go down. He was glad to move into the Byzantine era. Christian mosaic art just wasn’t as erotic as the Greek and Roman works. Harry was reading about Mesoamerican art when Snape arrived. “Was the book to your liking?” “Anything with naked women interests me.” Harry grinned at him. Snape frowned in response. “If you dirty my book, you are buying a new one.” Harry closed it and set it to the side as Snape stepped over to the bed. “Don’t worry, I won’t. Not like I can now, anyway.” Snape ran his wand down the bandages covering Harry’s chest and they fell away. Harry looked down to see three angry red lines but no other marks on his chest. Snape removed all the other bandages on Harry’s body except for the ones on his fingers. Harry saw more red marks on his upper right arm and on his thighs and calves. Snape pulled out a jar and a roll of bandages from his robes and began to rub a lotion into the wounds. Once he finished with a section, he rewrapped it. After he had finished with everything but Harry’s hands, he carefully removed a thin bandage from Harry’s face. Harry had forgotten about his cut cheek because the bandage was so thin and lightweight. Snape carefully applied his lotion to the wound and then replaced the bandage. “I don’t feel it when I talk.” Harry moved up one hand to touch the covering even though he couldn’t feel it through his bandages. “It is mostly healed,” Snape explained as he carefully removed the bandages from Harry’s other hand. Harry stared down at his fingers, which were swollen and held rigidly in place by splints. Snape produced another potion and rubbed it carefully into Harry’s fingers. He re-bandaged the digits, this time leaving them unattached to each other. “When d’you think I will be able to use them again?” Harry asked as Snape washed his hands. “You should be able to curl them tomorrow.” “How long should I pretend they are still damaged?” Harry tried to see how far he could move each wrapped finger. “Show almost no movement this next session and limited movement at the session beyond that one.” Snape summoned a stew and conjured a bed tray for Harry. “Okay, I can do that.” Harry clumsily gripped the spoon Snape handed to him and fed himself as best he could, spilling a good portion of the food on the tray instead of in his mouth. “Can I practise listening to spells?” He wanted to do something besides read. “Yes, we can do that,” Snape allowed. “I can’t wait,” Harry said eagerly. After he finished his stew, Snape fed him some nasty tasting potions. “Now can we practise?” Harry asked after he had forced the last one down his throat. “Yes, move to the centre of the bed.” Snape blindfolded Harry once the young wizard had done so. Before long, Harry felt and heard the spells zoom by his head. He tried guessing which curses and hexes Snape was sending towards him and found that he was pretty adept at identifying spells. They practised for a few hours before Snape stopped the exercise and removed the blindfold. “How did you learn to cast so many curses without saying them out loud?” Harry asked as he settled back on top of the covers. “I was using magic to conceal my words from you but it is possible to do magic entirely without wand or voice as you probably have guessed. The magic produced that way is unfocused and uncontrolled unless you know exactly how to control it without a wand but even then, certain spells can not be cast. An Avada Kedavra cast wandlessly and soundlessly can kill the caster. Children are taught to do magic while using wands to prevent catastrophes.” “So I could beat Voldemort without a wand?” “Yes,” nodded Snape. “It would be far more difficult than anything else you’ve done and you’d need sufficient training first but you could do it if you learned to control your magic well enough.” That was probably Snape’s plan, Harry realised. Harry was going to have to go fight Voldemort without anything at all but his magic. No wonder Snape hadn’t told Harry his plan earlier. The idea of going before Voldemort without a wand filled him with dread. But… if Snape thought he could do it, then he probably could. There was only one huge problem: how would Harry practise wandless magic? Snape handed the art book back to Harry, which was good because Harry wasn’t sure he’d have been able to pick it up even with his fingers less bandaged. “I will return to bring you dinner,” Snape informed him before leaving. “Okay,” Harry nodded and flipped to the page on which he had left off. Harry had just finished the book when Snape arrived and conjured him dinner. “I don’t like modern art. I think its ugly, especially when you compare it to classical art.” Harry closed the book and pushed it to the edge of the bed for Snape to pick up. “I had the same impression originally.” Snape had more of the beef stew for Harry. He set up the bed tray and floated it over. “What changed?” Harry clumsily ate his dinner. “As I learned the history behind the pieces, I came to understand them. However, mostly I just gained an appreciation for different aesthetics.” “What does that mean?” “It means I had a narrow view of what I considered to be beautiful. I eventually came to appreciate forms I had previously dismissed as unattractive.” Snape explained. “So you think a bunch of coloured squares is just as artistic as the Greek statues?” Harry asked incredulously. “You are trying to compare apples and oranges. If you view modern art with the same lenses as classical art, you will be sorely disappointed in modern art. Think of it as appreciation for the male form versus the female form.” Snape picked up the art book and flipped to a picture of a Doryphoros. “Even if you are only sexually attracted to women, you can still acknowledge the attraction of the masculine form if only for the power and virility suggested in the body of a well-toned male.” Harry felt his face flush for some reason as he stared at the statue. “Yeah, I guess…” Snape cleared the dishes. “Try to sleep now. As soon as your body restores itself, we will resume regular training sessions.” “Can I sleep in the cupboard?” Harry asked. “Excuse me?” Snape’s eyebrows drew in together. “Or here with the lights off. It’s too bright in here for me to sleep properly,” complained Harry. “As there are no light switches, I would have to use magic which could be dangerous because of how magic interacts with electricity,” Snape explained. “If you wish to sleep in the cupboard, then that can be arranged.” “I would.” Harry nodded. “Wait here.” Snape left the cell, heading in the direction of the cupboard. After a bit, he returned and offered his arm to Harry. Harry accepted it and limped out along side of him. Snape opened the door and Harry saw that the floor was completely covered with blankets. Snape summoned Harry’s pillow and handed it to him as Harry climbed into the surprisingly soft nest. “I will arrive in the morning to bring you breakfast,” Snape informed him as he adjusted the blankets. “Okay.” Harry had never felt more relaxed. Snape shut the door and Harry slept peacefully. [[Doryphoro literally means "Spear Bearer" and is the title of one of the most famous Greek sculptures. It was created by Polykleitos and there are many copies. You can view pictures of it [here](http://holylandarchive.com/photos_src/YRMNK07_400.jpg) and [here](http://academic.reed.edu/humanities/110tech/BodyLanguage/images/largest/doryphoros1.jpg).]] 


	23. Chapter 23

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


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[[Sorry I haven't posted as often. Been busy with things. I hope you enjoy this chapter. Please read and review as always]]

Harry hadn’t slept so well in a very long time. He woke feeling as if he had just slept for a week. Perhaps he would sleep in the cupboard more regularly. He lay for a while in the blankets, enjoying the feeling of softness against every inch of exposed skin. He could really get used to this. Finally, his hunger gnawed at him and he tried the cupboard door. To his surprise, it wasn’t locked. He pushed it open and looked around the hallway. Snape was no where in sight. He pulled himself up on his feet and tried the door he had never been through. It was locked as always. 

Harry walked down the hallway, using the bars of his cell for support although it wasn’t really needed. Two of the bars were opened so he could return to his cell if he wished, but he preferred to see how much of the house he could explore while Snape wasn’t around. Where was the Death Eater anyway? Harry pushed open the library door and stepped inside. Being alone with all the books made him excited for reasons he couldn’t quite explain. He wondered if Hermione felt the way he did now every time she went into the school library. 

_Frankenstein_ was still perched on top of the bookshelf. After quickly looking for Snape, Harry was about to climb up and get it when he suddenly realised there were much better things to do now that he had found himself without a guard. He could escape or find the owl. He quietly climbed up the steps, not wanting to alert the Death Eater to his movements. At the top of the stairs, he heard Snape’s voice and paused to listen.

Snape was in his room and speaking words Harry could not understand. His tone was casual as if he were chatting with a friend. Harry wondered who Snape would be talking to while in his bedroom. He didn’t hear any response and Snape did not pause to listen to answers. It was curious, but there were other things to explore so he moved down to the other end of the hall towards the throne room. He had the feeling that the other doors of the throne room led to outside.

He was about half way there when the bedroom door opened and Snape stepped out. Harry considered making a run for it but he knew he wouldn’t get very far and besides, it seemed sort of pointless. If he knew that he would end up with the Order by escaping then he would run without a second thought. However, knowing his luck, he’d probably just end up captured by the Death Eaters again. Snape was the next best option after the Order. Harry turned around to see Snape standing with his wand out and ready.

“Return to your cage if you want breakfast,” Snape said evenly.

“Who were you talking to?” Harry asked as he headed back towards the stairs. 

“An associate of mine,” Snape replied enigmatically. “Are you sore anywhere?”

“No, I feel pretty good, just hungry.” Harry passed through the library. “A Death Eater associate?”

“It is none of your business,” Snape said firmly.

Harry was dying of curiosity as he stepped through the open bars. Why would Snape have an ‘associate’ in his bedroom? A lover? If it was a lover, what did the lover think about Snape having sex with Harry? Harry doubted that it was a lover. Snape was probably using some unusual method of communication. Harry hadn’t seen a fireplace or a portrait in that room when he had visited it earlier, but who knew what other methods wizards had to speak with each other. Snape was also familiar with Muggle communication methods, although Harry had not seen a phone either. The only other thing Harry could think of was an owl, but Snape didn’t seem the sort who would talk to owls. Harry also would’ve seen the owl or at least signs of its presence the last time he was in Snape’s bedroom, and most wizards didn’t allow their owls in their bedrooms. 

Harry was so busy trying to figure out who Snape was talking to that he almost didn’t react when the Death Eater summoned a chicken stew for him and placed a spoon in his hand. He had gotten better at feeding himself without moving his fingers. 

“We will attempt to try dodging today. If you feel unwell, it is better for you to rest than strain yourself, so do not push yourself today.”

“I won’t,” promised Harry.

Snape just drank his tea. Once Harry had finished his breakfast, Snape removed the rest of the bandages. The lines were almost invisible. He felt fine except for his fingers. He hurried through his morning duties, excited to begin.

Finally, he stepped through the bars after Snape. 

“What will we do today?”

“I think dodging will be enough.” Snape led him up to the practice room. Harry saw that the cleaning supplies had been replaced with new bottles and containers. He examined the new items with curiosity.

“Baking soda? Lemon juice? Toothpaste? White vinegar? Cornstarch?” Harry frowned. “How d’you use these in cleaning?” 

“I’m sure you will figure it out,” Snape said dismissively. “I brought you here to train, not clean.”

Harry couldn’t argue with that so he stood and headed to the centre of the room. Snape sent away more of the furniture and began to send balls towards Harry. Harry was able to dodge five immediately. He focused on making tight movements and tried to remain in the centre the entire time. He had improved greatly since the last time he had attempted this exercise, and even with his limbs slightly sore, he wasn’t tired by the time Snape stopped the exercise for lunch.

“I can do more,” Harry insisted.

“I don’t want you throwing yourself on the floor as you have the tendency to do in a normal training session,” Snape explained. 

“I won’t,” promised Harry.

“Then we will practise aiming again.” Snape finished off his sandwich. 

“Okay!” Harry eagerly downed his pumpkin juice. 

Snape cleared the dishes and unchained Harry. The young wizard ran to the centre of the room. Snape tossed him the laser pointer.

“Focus on staying in the centre of the room this time,” Snape suggested as he set up the exercise. 

“Yes, sir.” Harry held his pointer like a wand as best he could with his bandaged hands. The balls began to zoom towards him, and he weaved as he tried to take out the fake Death Eaters. It was difficult without the furniture and he was hit several times but he managed to remain pretty stationary. By the time he took down the last Death Eater, he was hungry. “It’s harder when I try to stay still.”

Snape led him downstairs. “It is highly unlikely that being stationary will help you, but you should master the skill anyway.”

“I will,” Harry agreed. “I just hope I do it soon because I don’t like it as much as I like running around.” 

Snape led him into the bathroom and spelled the taps open for him. Harry was determined to bathe himself so he climbed in the bath tub and grabbed the soap before Snape could move to help him. Snape took his chair, and Harry did his best to clean himself. The soap kept slipping through his fingers and he got shampoo in his eye instead of on his hair. Snape stepped in and helped him rinse out his eye. He then shampooed his hair for him, his fingers moving briskly. Harry felt embarrassed by his own helplessness. It didn’t help that Snape being so close to Harry reminded him of sex, and he began to get hard. He tried to will it down, but it had been quite a while since he had last orgasmed, and he had the feeling that he would explode if he didn’t come soon. 

He kept his back to Snape as he got out of the tub. He was drying himself off when he realised he had no way to rub the muscle potion into his limbs with the bandages on his hands. Snape would have to help him and Snape would see he was hard. 

“I don’t need the muscle potion today,” Harry insisted. “I didn’t work out that much.”

“It is better for you to use it even when you don’t think you need it,” Snape lectured. “This potion has no ill side effects, so it will not harm you even if you use it daily. If you are serious about your training than you should do everything you possibly can to make sure it goes smoothly and quickly.”

“I am,” Harry instantly responded. He could put up with a bit of embarrassment. He pulled the towel firmly over his groin. “Okay, I’ll put it on.”

“Lay down on your stomach.” Snape rolled up his sleeves.

Harry spread his towel out on the rug and lay down on top of it. Snape’s hands were cold at first, and he jumped when they touched him. They warmed as the Death Eater rubbed the potion into Harry’s skin, and the young wizard relaxed as the skilled fingers worked the potions into his muscles. He had to admit it was really rather nice to be massaged and he hardened even more, even though Snape wasn’t touching him in a sexual way. 

He consoled himself with the knowledge that he was still a teenager, and inappropriate erections were just something that happened from time to time. When Snape tapped his hip to signal to him to roll over, he pulled his towel with him and bunched it over his groin so Snape couldn’t tell he was erect. Snape didn’t give it a second glance but worked on Harry’s legs with finesse. Harry’s nipples were painfully hard when Snape’s fingers passed over his chest. He almost wanted to request the potion and sex for that night, but he managed to hold himself in.

Snape finished and washed his hands in the sink. Harry sat up and held the towel tightly around his waist as he very carefully made his way back to his cell. He was so fucking hard he wanted to request a few minutes alone in the bathroom to wank, but he doubted Snape would allow it. Instead, he sat at the table and thought of the grossest, nastiest things he could think about while he tried to make himself relax.

“Why are you making such faces?” Snape began to remove the bandages on Harry’s hands. 

“I can’t wait to get these off,” Harry lied quickly, embarrassed about his horniness.

Snape removed the splints. “Try curling your fingers.”

Harry did so and was delighted to find that he could. His fingers felt a bit stiff, but he could curl them all the way up. He practiced opening and closing them several times, delighting in the sensation. 

“Only your proximal phalanges were actually broken.” Snape took Harry’s right hand in his left and ran his finger across Harry’s just above the knuckles. The Death Eater felt each bone carefully with his right thumb and index finger. He released Harry’s right hand and took the left, repeating the process. “They appear to be healed, but I want to rewrap them just in case.”

Harry watched as Snape put bandages just between his knuckles and the first joint. When the Death Eater had finished, Harry had pretty good mobility in his hands. He tested them with the bandages while Snape spelled dinner on the table. 

Harry dug into his pork chop, glad to have normal food again. Snape sat across from him and summoned tea. “We will have to perform either tonight or tomorrow. Since we will be attempting it without the use of drugs, I suggest that we do it tonight.”

“Can’t you give me some other drug instead?” Harry requested.

“No,” said Snape firmly. “I was assured the other drug would not cause you to lose control of your mental faculties, and yet you said something I had explicitly ordered you to never mention. Even if I gave you a traditional social lubricant such as alcohol, I fear you would still speak what you must never say.”

Harry was faced with a terrible choice. He could either admit that he had purposely said those words so that he’d get to have sex a second time or have sex with Snape without the use of any drugs. Harry gathered all his courage and said, “Okay, we will try it without it.” 

Snape nodded, obviously expecting that answer. Harry slowly finished his meal, avoiding looking at Snape the entire time. To his annoyance, he was getting hard again. Fuck, Snape would think he was some sort of pervert. It wasn’t as if he wanted to have sex; he just wanted to have sex orgasms. He didn’t think he could do this even though he was pretty sure he had already had sex without the potion. It was a good thing he didn’t actually have to orgasm. He could just lay there and let Snape have his way if he needed to. 

When he finished his meal he crossed over to the bed, holding the towel over his groin. He dropped the towel and lay face down on the bed. He stared at the wall as he heard Snape removing his clothing. Why had he ever insisted on Snape undressing? The thought of looking at the Death Eater while he was naked made him terribly embarrassed, and he considered telling Snape to remain fully clothed. No wonder Snape always closed his eyes. 

Snape climbed on to the bed and touched Harry’s hip to tell him to roll onto his back. Harry did so, closing his eyes. He felt Snape’s hands move across his chest to touch his nipples. It made his cock jump although it didn’t feel nearly as erotic as it had when he had the potion in his system. He kept thinking about how it was Snape who was touching him. Snape’s body pressed against his side. Snape’s hands on his chest. Snape’s scent in his nose. He tried to think of Ginny, but it didn’t work, especially when Snape lowered his head and took a nipple into his mouth, his hair brushing against Harry’s chest. Harry tried to remember how good it had felt before but his mind kept reminding him that it was Snape touching him.

He spread his legs, wanting it over and done with. Snape took the hint and cast the spells. When he opened the jar, Harry’s cock filled completely. His body remembered Snape’s touch and hungered for more, but he just couldn’t get his mind around the concept. 

The first finger pushed in and Harry clutched the sheets tightly. It felt weird. He didn’t understand how he ever found it erotic. 

“Relax…” Snape petted Harry’s thighs. “Push back against me.”

How the fuck was he supposed to do both at the same time? He tried to follow Snape’s instructions but it didn’t work and the addition of a second finger made him more uncomfortable. The fingers stroked the spot and he felt his penis twitch and drip precum. He wanted to be aroused in both body and mind. It would be so much better for both of them if he could just recapture that perfect state he had been in the last time they had sex, but he just couldn’t get his mind to go there. 

Snape added a third finger and stretched Harry out as he circled his thumb and forefinger and closed it around Harry’s penis right below the head. He slowly slid the foreskin up over the head and back down again. Harry focused on the pleasure in his dick, trying to keep his mind focused on thoughts of how good the sensations felt. He relaxed as he thrust up into Snape’s hand, desperately wanting the Death Eater to take more of him in his fingers. Snape’s other fingers fucked him until he was moaning with pleasure. Then, the fingers withdrew and Snape turned Harry around, pulling him up onto his knees. Harry moved so that he was kneeling before the wall. He remembered how good the sex had been the other times they did it in this position, so he leaned his upper body forward and pressed against the wall.

Snape got into position and pushed inside. It hurt and he didn’t like it. He expressed his displeasure with a hiss and tried to pull away. Snape’s fingers curled around his penis again, and he tried to focus on that instead of the discomfort in his arse. He couldn’t do it. It just wasn’t going to work; he would never like being fucked without the potion. He must’ve had the potion those other times they had sex. 

“Just do it,” he muttered through gritted teeth when Snape waited for him to adjust.

Snape pulled out instead, which frustrated Harry. 

“Just do it!” Harry yelled, wanting this whole thing to be over with. 

“Come.” Snape manoeuvred the young wizard to lie on his back on the bed again. “You need to relax first.”

“I’m not going to relax! You did it before, just do it again.” Harry kept his eyes closed, not wanting to look at the Death Eater. “He probably likes it better when I hate it anyway.”

“You need to relax so that I don’t hurt you.” Snape’s fingers stroked Harry’s inner thighs.

“Just give me a painkiller.”

“And let you become addicted to them as well?” said Snape disapprovingly. “I don’t want it to be like this every time.”

“It’s not going to be different. I’m not a woman,” Harry insisted.

Snape’s fingers paused. He took Harry’s hand. “Come here.”

Harry reluctantly allowed Snape to pull him from the bed and move him so that he was standing with his face to the wall. Snape then turned him around.

“Now, you must never show this to anyone, is that clear?” Snape threatened in a voice that suggested he would kill Harry if Harry did.

“I’m never showing any of this to anyone!” Harry would die before he let another soul knew what happened here. 

Satisfied that his secret was safe, Snape knelt before Harry. Oh my god! Harry clutched the wall for support, wondering if Snape was really going to do what Harry thought he was planning to. Snape curled his hand around the base of Harry’s penis and took the head into his wet, sinful mouth. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Harry’s eyes rolled back in his head and he couldn’t breathe for a moment. This was better than a thousand hand jobs. Was this what it felt like to have sex like a man? Snape’s mouth was so wet and warm, and Harry wanted to stuff his cock all the way inside of it and never let go. His dick had wilted when Snape had penetrated him but now he was growing hard again and he wanted nothing more than to come while inside Snape’s mouth. 

Snape moved his other hand to caress Harry’s balls as he bobbed his head on Harry’s shaft. Harry had to lean forward and clutch Snape’s shoulders for support, especially when the hand massaging his balls found a spot just behind him that felt almost as good when it was stroked as that spot inside of him did. Harry spread his legs so Snape could access it better and then Snape’s free hand began stroking his entire crack. He teased Harry’s hole with his fingers and Harry found he didn’t mind it much at all, not when his prick was being sucked so wonderfully. Snape’s fingers slid inside and then he was finger fucking Harry as Harry fucked his mouth. If Snape could somehow fuck Harry while sucking him off, Harry would’ve done it eagerly. 

He needed to ask Snape to teach him vocabulary because ‘fucking amazing’ wasn’t enough to describe how euphoric the sensation was. It was almost like the first time with the drug. Pleasure surged between his arse and his cock, and the rest of his body tingled with excitement as he neared orgasm. 

Harry was almost going to blow when Snape removed his fingers and his head.

“No! I’m so close!” 

Snape turned Harry around to face the wall and stood. He spread Harry’s arse cheeks with his thumbs and thrust inside. It didn’t hurt like it had earlier, even though Snape had moved faster and stuffed more of himself inside this time. Snape rocked into him steadily and his penis rubbed against that spot inside Harry that made the young wizard quake and cry with pleasure. Harry surged up on his toes with each thrust, his upper body pressed against the wall and his arse sticking out so Snape could go in just the way he liked it. He was so very, very close. His cock was dripping furiously and he knew he’d die if he didn’t relieve the pressure so heavy inside him that every muscle in his body was taut.

Harry moved one hand to close around his aching prick and he only needed to fist himself twice before he came with a howl, every single bit of energy and fluid in his body spewing out onto the wall. Snape curled his arm around Harry’s chest to hold him upright, as the young wizard’s limbs turned into cooked noodles. 

Snape kept thrusting and it still felt good even though he had already came. Harry was glad that he hadn’t orgasmed inside of Snape’s mouth because he probably would’ve come again from the fucking alone, and that would’ve been very embarrassing. His penis was already twitching with interest again. Snape’s cock felt so strange inside of him. He had always focused mostly on his prick rather than his bum during sex, and the sensation of being completely filled there was really odd yet somehow erotic. Harry clenched his muscles around the thick heat inside of him and Snape made a grunt of appreciation and thrust faster. Harry hurried him along by tightening around him, and it wasn’t long before Snape was spilling himself inside the young wizard, holding him so tightly Harry was afraid he was going to have bruises on his chest the next morning. 

Snape carefully pulled out when his cock had finished twitching. He released Harry as soon as he removed himself from his body. Harry stumbled over to the bed, leaving room for Snape. Snape lay down on the bed and Harry pressed himself against the Death Eater’s stiff body. He lay with his head on Snape’s chest, listening to his rapid heart beat. Snape gradually relaxed and very hesitantly moved to rest a hand on Harry’s back. The post orgasm bliss wasn’t the same as it had been earlier. Harry supposed that he had gotten used to sex orgasms now and that was why he no longer felt so connected to Snape after orgasm. It made sense. Although fucking was still amazing, it wasn’t quite like that first time when he had been able to come without touching his penis at all. 

Harry lay with his eyes closed, enjoying the feel of a warm body pressed against his own and drifted in pleasure and happiness. Snape had to ruin it by pushing Harry off of him in too short a time. 

“Are you really going to show that to Voldemort?” Harry asked, watching as Snape’s blurry figure dressed and cast cleaning spells. 

“I will not show him a certain part to be sure, and neither will you,” he raised his wand and pointed it at Harry.

Harry raised his cuffs to protect his head. As he did so, he was filled with the odd sense of déjà vu. “No, no! Don’t do that to me! I swear I won’t ever show it to anyone!”

To Harry’s relief, Snape lowered his wand and strode out of the cell. Harry pulled a sheet over himself and lay in the warm spot Snape had left in the bed. He still couldn’t believe Snape had actually given him head. Only gays and women gave head. Snape had to be gay. Harry could think of no other reason why a bloke who claimed to be straight would willingly suck another bloke’s dick. And Snape had sucked it so wonderfully. Thinking about Snape’s mouth around his penis made him harden completely and Harry slid off his bed to fetch toilet paper. Ordinarily, wanking so closely after Snape had fucked him would’ve filled him with shame and loathing but the memory of the blowjob was far too hot to try to wish away. 

Harry lay on his back and made a circle with his thumb and first finger as Snape had done to him earlier. His fingers weren’t quite as good at Snape’s had been but it was still really hot. Harry had never tried masturbating like that before -- only manipulating the foreskin rather than sliding his whole hand over his length. He found that he didn’t need to spit in his hand when he did it this way and it wasn’t long before he had to press the toilet paper to the head of his cock to catch the spunk that hadn’t spurted out the first time. His orgasm wasn’t as strong but still very satisfying. He relaxed against the bed for a moment before he crossed the room to dispose of the remains of his pleasure in the toilet.

Harry returned to his bed and curled up in the sheets. If Snape was going to give him head every time then he could do it without taking the potion. Hell, if Snape was going to give him head so he could go inside then Harry’d ask for it. Harry thought it was far gayer to give a man head than to take it up the bum. Obviously, Snape was in denial about his homosexuality. He said he hated having sex with Harry, but Harry knew the Death Eater didn’t have to be coaxed into hardness like Harry did. No matter. If Snape wanted to pretend to be straight, Harry wouldn’t call him on his bluff. Especially if he was willing to give head every time.

Harry fell asleep quickly.


	24. Chapter 24

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

[[Thank you for your reviews! As always, please read and review. The night before I wrote this, I had a dream last night that I took polyjuice potion to turn into a guy so that I could write the masturbation scenes in my fic more realistically. It was one of the most interesting dreams I've ever had. I've been reading and writing too much slash]]

Harry woke the next morning before Snape entered the hallway. He pretended he was still asleep and easily dodged the spells Snape cast at him. Once he had proven himself, Snape removed the rest of the bandages. Harry’s fingers appeared to be working fine. He wiggled them as Snape served him breakfast. Harry shoved the food into his mouth, eager to begin his training. Snape frowned at him as he drank his tea. 

“What will we do today?” Harry asked as he hurried through his morning routine. 

“You will practise dodging while restrained. I will keep your wrists chained together.” Snape got to his feet and cleared the table.

Harry held up his wrists for Snape to cast the chaining spell.

“ _Concretio Ferratilis_!” After chaining him, Snape led him upstairs to the practice room which had been cleared of furniture.

Harry walked to the centre of the room. He wasn’t too concerned about this task. He had gotten quite adept at dodging with a minimal effort and he felt confident he could escape even with the chain in place. Snape began the exercise and Harry easily ducked and weaved as he avoided even six projectiles at once with ease. Snape returned the furniture to make the exercise harder, but Harry had learned to use the pieces to his advantage and hadn’t been hit once by the time they stopped for lunch. 

“It’s too easy.” Harry curled his legs and accepted the plate from Snape.

Snape sat in his favourite chair and primly ate his meal. Harry wondered on how earth Snape managed to eat the sandwiches without losing at least half of the ingredients like he did. “We will try other methods, but I don’t think having your hands restrained will be much of a problem.”

“What if my feet are restrained?” 

“We will practise that too,” Snape nodded.

“How can I get close to the Death Eaters if I am tied to something?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“I will train you how to get rid of your chains.” Snape put down his sandwich and looked down on Harry menacingly. “However, you are _never_ to do this before the final battle. No matter what happens, you must never let the others be aware of this ability until I give the signal for you to attack.”

Harry swallowed hard. He didn’t like that idea at all. “What happens if you die?”

“Then you must try to get the Dark Lord to kill you.”

“Kill me?” Harry dropped his sandwich, spilling its ingredients all over his plate.

“There is a reason the spell rebounded on the Dark Lord when he tried to cast it on you all those years ago,” Snape explained. “You must try to get him to cast the Avada Kedavra on you.”

“It didn’t work because my mother gave her life for me,” Harry explained. “It won’t happen again, her protection can’t help me a second time.”

“Your mother’s love is protecting you and will protect you more than you will ever know,” Snape said softly. 

“If you say so,” Harry doubtfully repaired his turkey sandwich and finished it off. “So what’s the signal?”

“I will let you know closer to the date.” Snape cleared away their empty plates and unchained Harry. “Put your hands behind your back.”

Harry immediately did so and Snape chained them together. The Death Eater walked to the side of the room and began the exercise again. Having his hands tied behind his back messed Harry up and he wasn’t nearly as proficient at dodging. He tripped and fell numerous times, Snape catching him with his wand each time he stumbled towards something sharp. 

Snape had just returned Harry upright after a fall when Harry tripped on an end table and fell towards a couch. Snape didn’t stop the fall because it was towards a soft surface. Harry tried to use the force of his fall to propel himself back on his feet but he overcorrected and smacked his head against a bookcase. 

“Ow!” He was more startled than hurt.

Snape approached. “Did you hit your head?”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t really hurt.” Harry clumsily got to his feet.

Snape steadied him with one hand and poked the back of Harry’s head with the other. “Are you sure? You don’t want to attract the Dark Lord’s attention.”

“Yeah… ow, don’t jab it!” 

Suddenly Snape stiffened, his grip on Harry’s arm tightening. “Someone’s here.” He pushed Harry down onto his knees and sent the balls away. 

The door flew opened, and Bellatrix stepped into the room.

“Severus,” she hissed in displeasure. “I should’ve guessed you were a nonce.”

Harry’s face burned. He was kneeling naked before Snape’s crotch with his hands tied behind his back. “I’m not a child.”

Snape backhanded Harry, knocking him facedown into the carpet. Harry was too shocked to do anything but lay there as Snape put his foot on Harry’s neck, pinning him to the floor. 

“You haven’t trained the pet very well, have you?” Bellatrix sneered. “If he were mine, I’d have him begging me to hurt him.”

“I prefer him to be defiant,” said Snape coolly, his voice deadly. “To me there is nothing sweeter than watching the transformation from foolish courage to helpless tears.” 

Bellatrix’s horrible laugh ran up and down Harry’s spine. “That is true. Give me a show while we speak.”

“Normally I make him clean the rooms at this time of day.”

“How boring.” She sat in Snape’s favourite chair. “Show me something better.”

Harry wanted to get up and run back to his cell but he forced himself to remain calm and stationary. He wondered why he had ever trusted Snape; the man was a Death Eater! Snape’s voice was so cruel and cold that Harry was sure something terrible was about to happen to him. Snape’s foot moved off Harry’s neck, and he gasped for breath even though Snape hadn’t been crushing his airway. His arms were bent at the elbows and bound together so that they were parallel. Snape grabbed him by the back of his hair and yanked his head up. Harry felt bonds appear around his neck just as they had when Snape had raped him the first time. No. He had asked Snape not to do this. He had asked him to do anything but this. The man was a Death Eater and would hurt Harry in the worst possible way.

When Snape grabbed his ankles, Harry was so sure what was coming next that he struggled violently, even though his attempts to get away cut off his air. He was so panic-stricken he almost didn’t realize that Snape was binding his ankles together instead of spreading them apart. He wasn’t going to be raped. He forced himself to calm down as Snape pushed his calves up so that his feet pointed at his head. He felt Snape connect the bindings between Harry’s throat and ankles before stepping away. Harry had to keep his head and legs in place or else he’d choke himself to death. It was a terrible position to be in, and he knew that if Snape didn’t let him out in a few hours he’d kill himself, but he was willing to take it over other forms of torture.

A buzzing filled his ears as the Death Eaters used Muffliato to prevent him from overhearing their conversation. His muscles ached and he wanted to lower his head and rest, but he couldn’t do so without cutting off his airway. He tried to roll himself on his side to ease his aching muscles, but when he began to attempt to do, so he ended up choking himself and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to do it safely. He stole glances at the Death Eaters, but only Bellatrix was watching him. Harry wasn’t about to attempt lying on his side unless he was sure Snape was paying attention so that the Death Eater could come save him if he ended up strangling himself instead. 

After what seemed like ages, Bellatrix finally got to her feet and crossed the room, Snape following behind her. They left through the door together and Harry had a moment of panic as the door closed behind Snape. How could the Death Eater leave him here like this? What if he died? Thankfully, Snape returned after a few seconds and released Harry’s bonds. Harry lay on the floor and gasped for breath, delighted to be able to breathe normally again. Snape approached and touched Harry’s neck lightly. 

“Does it hurt?” His voice was still cold but not nearly as arctic as it had been, before and his fingers were chilly yet gentle. If Harry hadn’t known better, he would’ve thought Sex and Training Snape was a different person than Rape and Torture Snape.

“I’m just sore,” Harry pushed Snape’s hand away and got to his feet. 

“That is enough for today,” Snape stood and headed for the door. “Did you learn your lesson, or will you antagonize more visiting Death Eaters?”

“I wasn’t _trying_ to do that.” Harry followed after Snape.

“You spoke without thinking,” Snape correctly guessed. “I have warned you about that many times.”

“I’m trying,” Harry grumbled.

“Not enough,” challenged Snape. “If Bellatrix had wanted to torture you for your disrespect it would have been a hundred times worse than what I did to you. You were very lucky she was in a hurry. What if your actions or words destroy our plan or cause one of the Death Eaters to accidentally kill you?” 

“Voldemort said I wasn’t to even be hurt when he isn’t around,” Harry pointed out. 

Snape grabbed Harry’s cuffs and pushed him into the wall of the bathroom, pinning him with his larger body as he leaned in close, his face clearly visible at the shorter distance.

“Think, Potter,” he growled, his black eyes glittering. “The Dark Lord has to tell them to stop sometimes even when they are in his presence.” He stepped away from Harry and twisted the young wizard’s hands behind his back, holding them with his right as he pushed Harry forward to bend over the edge of the tub. He opened the taps with his left and water poured into the tub.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked in alarm.

“I’m teaching you a lesson.” Snape pushed Harry’s head towards the water. “What if I were replaced by another guard? A guard who felt it was more amusing to hold your head underwater instead of giving you baths. What if you angered this guard enough during one of those sessions that he was so filled with rage, he held your head under longer than he intended and you drowned. Do you believe that is impossible?” Snape shoved Harry’s head so that he was only an inch above water. “Do you really believe that you don’t have the ability to enrage a Death Eater to the point where he would accidentally kill you?”

“No.” Harry believed that Snape would do it too. 

Snape released him and stepped to his corner of the room. “Yes, the Dark Lord would kill any Death Eater who accidentally murdered you, but that would not bring you back from the dead.”

Harry climbed into the tub with shaking limbs. He turned off the water. Snape could be so scary sometimes. He hated it when Snape was rough with him; he wasn’t a child that needed to be scolded. 

“I understand that you dodge most efficiently when you act without thinking so I am reluctant to order you to think before you do anything. Ideally, you should have two mindsets – your training mindset and your slave mindset. While you are training and during the final battle you should rely on your well-honed instincts. While you are playing the submissive slave, you should think before you do anything at all.” Snape brought the muscle lotion over to set on the edge of the tub and remained there, looking down at Harry. “If you can’t manage such a task, at least think before you speak. Will you do that?” 

“I’ll try…” Harry clutched the shampoo bottle. “I just don’t see how you can let someone call you a child molester and not want to punch them.”

“She was trying to provoke me,” explained Snape as he stepped away. “If I had responded with anger, it would’ve been exactly what she wanted. You need to control your rage and use it to your advantage.”

“I’m trying.” Harry hated Snape’s lectures. What did the Death Eater know about what he was going through? Telling him to be calm and not let his emotions run away with him was very easy when you weren’t being tortured and abused on a near daily basis. 

“Not enough.” 

Harry threw the shampoo at him. “IT’S NOT EASY, OKAY?”

Snape stalked towards him and Harry jumped out of the tub and tried to escape out the door. Snape flicked his wand and the rug moved under Harry and he was on his back with Snape on top of him, holding him down, before he knew what had happened.

“You insufferable brat!” Snape raged. “Don’t tell me you thought before you did that!”

“Get off me!” Harry bucked his hips, trying to throw the Death Eater off of him. “You have no idea what it’s like! They hurt me – you hurt me – all the time, and I can’t do anything about it!”

“You can do something about it!” Snape insisted, holding Harry firmly in place, his face twisted in rage and his eyes burning. “You can follow my instructions and learn how to train yourself while playing the slave so that when you rise up to defeat them you will actually win. You don’t have to trust me, but at least let me help you!”

“Let you help me?!” Harry laughed. “Don’t lie to me; I know I’m helping you! You will never be rid of Voldemort unless I kill him.”

“And defeating the Dark Lord does not benefit you in the slightest? I know you. I know your kind…Gryffindor martyrs who become involved even when there is absolutely no need to.” Snape’s features softened and he spoke in a calmer tone, “If I took you away to the other side of the world and gave you luxury, you’d loathe it, wouldn’t you? You’d try to come right back here to save everyone even if it meant your death. You’ll never be at peace until you kill the Dark Lord or he kills you.”

“Of course!” Harry glared up at him. “It’s because I have courage. I’m not a cowardly Slytherin; I’ll do what’s right, no matter what I have to sacrifice!”

Snape released him and stood up. “Then your way forward is clear. You will do everything in your power to destroy the Dark Lord, even if it costs you your life.”

“And how can I do that when I am trapped in here?” Harry asked suspiciously. “If you want to defeat Voldemort then why not help me escape? You know I will come back to kill him.”

“You think I would survive very long if I were to help you escape?” Snape pushed down his sleeve, revealing his Dark Mark. “If I let you out alone, you’d be captured again in minutes. Furthermore, the Dark Lord’s priorities have shifted since the last time you were on the run and this time, he would stop at nothing until he had you again even if that meant he had to track down all the Weasleys and kill them one by one. I wonder… would Ginevra be first or last?”

“Stop it!” Harry couldn’t bear to hear it. 

Snape plucked a towel off the rack and draped it over Harry’s shoulders. “I know it isn’t easy, but I wouldn’t be trying to help you if I didn’t believe you could do this. I want the Dark Lord destroyed, and you are the only wizard with the ability to actually do it.”

He offered his hand and Harry took it, allowing Snape to pull him to his feet. He kept the towel around himself as he followed Snape back to his cell. He was annoyingly hard for some reason. He found his clothes and pulled them on, keeping his back to Snape. He had gotten used to nudity and hadn’t worn them for days but he felt the urge to wear them now. Snape spelled dinner on the table. 

“From now on, I want you to think before you say anything, even in my presence. Just regard it as another form of training. You wouldn’t have been able to elude five projectiles at the same time if I had started with such a high number. Before you say anything, take a breath and contemplate your words,” Snape suggested.

Harry nodded as he dug into his chicken. He could do that. He had learned to hold his tongue around Uncle Vernon. Of course, what his relatives had done to him was nothing compared to what the Death Eaters did on a regular basis. 

“Why do you want Voldemort destroyed?” Harry doubted he was going to get a straight answer but he had to ask.

Snape peered at him over his tea. “As I said before, you have probably observed how even my best efforts to please the Dark Lord have been futile. He has increased his demands and the price of failure over the years, and I desire to have more dominion over my own affairs.”

“What will you do then?”

“Return to teaching somewhere else, free of external obligations.”

He was glad that Snape respected him enough to admit that he was after the destruction of Voldemort purely for his own selfish reasons and wasn’t going to try to convince Harry that he was doing it out of the goodness of his own heart. It was just as Harry expected and fit with what he knew of Snape. Harry still suspected that Snape wanted to become the next Dark Lord himself, but was willing to accept Snape’s explanation for now. 

“I hate watching you bow and scrape even while he treats you like shite,” Harry told him. “He’d kill you in a second if you got in his way or he thought it would help him in the slightest. I’ve seen him do it.” 

“I know,” Snape nodded.

“Then why –?”

Snape held up his hand. “You didn’t think first. Take a breath and say the words in your head before you say them out loud.”

It irked Harry but he did as Snape asked, breathing deeply and gathering his thoughts before saying, “Why do you do such horrible things for him when you know he doesn’t give a damn about you? I can see why people are willing to die for the Order, but not for Voldemort.”

“There are only a few who are willing to die for the Dark Lord. For most of us, the ideas were more important than the wizard,” Snape explained.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about how you hate ‘mudbloods.’” Harry drank his pumpkin juice.

Snape’s fingers twitched around his cup and his eyebrows drew in together but he did not say anything in response. Harry was surprised by the Death Eater’s reaction. He knew Snape disliked Muggles, but to have such a reaction at the mere mention of them was a bit out of hand.

“If you had had a muggle born friend like Hermione I doubt you would hate them so much,” he offered. “You know –”

Snape stood up so fast, his chair fell over with a loud crack and Harry jumped in surprise. “Are you finished or will I be forced to remain here and listen while you prattle on about every asinine thought that enters your empty head?” the Death Eater demanded in a vicious tone.

“I’m finished,” Harry quickly put down his empty cup, staring up at Snape in shock. He was too stunned to think up a retort.

Snape cleared the dishes with a jerk of his wand. “Get to bed,” he spit out before storming out of the cell.

Harry stared after him. He hadn’t meant to be offensive, and Snape’s reaction was really over the top. He brushed his teeth and puzzled over it. As far as he knew, Snape had been mostly involved in fights with the Marauders who were all pure blood except for Lupin who was half-blood. It was so obvious, he almost didn’t remember it: Snape’s father! Harry had almost forgotten the other bits of Snape’s past he had seen. He remembered a small boy crying as an ugly man yelled at a trembling woman. Snape’s father probably hated the fact that his wife was a witch and his son a wizard. Harry couldn’t imagine growing up with a father who hated you for what you were.

The Dursleys had disliked Harry because they thought he might be a wizard, but they had never told him the reason for their dislike. Harry always thought they hated him because they disliked anyone who wasn’t in their immediate family who didn’t have a lot of money. If Harry had known he was being picked on for being a wizard, would he have developed a different opinion of Muggles? Harry didn’t think so; he had not held the Dursley’s behaviour against other Muggles after he had known. Snape probably just mirrored his father’s dislike of anything different, while Harry had ignored his relatives’ opinions of ‘others.’

Harry pushed up his mattress to examine his collection of books. He still had the remains of the myth book with his letter tucked carefully inside, _Cosmos_ , and the art book. Even though he had already read through the art book and hadn’t finished _Cosmos_ , he pulled out the art book and flipped through the pages. 

Seeing the nude bodies excited him, and he turned to the modern art page. Picasso had painted works of naked women, but they just weren’t erotic like the Renaissance paintings were. Harry reread the descriptions of the modern paintings. In the text opposite a particularly strange-looking Picasso was the story of how a man had complained that Picasso’s paintings weren’t realistic. Picasso had asked to see an example of realistic art and when the man pulled out a photograph of his wife, the artist had criticised it as unrealistic, saying that the woman was probably not three inches tall and two-dimensional. Harry still thought the paintings were ugly, but he was starting to understand what Snape meant about appreciating a different aesthetic. 

He turned back to the Greek sculpture of the Doryphoros. Although it didn’t arouse him the way _Sleeping Venus_ by Giorgione had, he could appreciate the well-proportioned body of the male athlete. Did girls find the classical male forms arousing? If he looked like Doryphoros would Ginny be more inclined to sleep with him or less? Thoughts of sleeping with Ginny revived his member and he closed the book and put it back under his mattress. He was embarrassed to masturbate so soon after having sex. He buried his face in his pillow, remembering how he had wanked right after the last session.

It wasn’t as though he was aroused by gay sex. It was just incredibly hard to stay flaccid when someone had your dick in their mouth. The thought of Snape giving him head was the worst thing to think about just then because all the blood in his body rushed to his cock immediately. He was not going to wank to the memory of Snape going down on him. He wasn’t. Harry clenched his pillow and thought of Voldemort and Umbridge having sex until his organ had calmed down enough to let him sleep. 

[[[Wiki page on the _Sleeping Venus_.](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sleeping_Venus_\(Giorgione\))]] 


	25. Chapter 25

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

Harry woke the next morning with a painful hard-on. His body just wasn’t going to let him rest, was it? Then again, enough time had passed since he had had sex that he supposed it was safe to wank now. He pushed down his bottoms, letting his prick spring free. God, he was so fucking horny. He reached for his dick and had almost touched it when he heard Snape’s footsteps in the library. He hurriedly redressed and flipped onto his stomach, his eyes watching the hallway. 

Snape stepped through the library door and began casting spells at Harry as soon as he was in range of the young wizard. Harry effortlessly dodged, and Snape stopped the exercise shortly to serve breakfast.

Harry hid his hard-on as he stumbled to the table. He focused on his breakfast, wishing his penis down so he could use the toilet before practice started. It took forever to melt, especially whenever he glanced at Snape. Harry couldn’t make out Snape’s mouth clearly, but whenever the Death Eater opened it to take a sip of his tea, Harry’s penis twitched in excitement, clearly remembering it had been in there before. Okay, maybe not masturbating was a mistake. If he had masturbated then he wouldn’t be so desperately horny that he couldn’t even look at Snape without wanting to wank.

“What did you have planned for today?” Harry asked to try to derail his dirty thoughts.

“You need to master dodging with your wrists chained behind your back,” Snape sent away his finished tea. 

“Oh yeah,” Harry nodded. “Is there a way we can practise that where I don’t knock myself against sharp objects?”

Snape’s finger traced his mouth as he thought. Harry had seen Snape do it many times since his fifth year and had barely noticed it, yet this time it made his penis thicken. He cast his eyes down to his omelette, knowing his face must be turning red.

“I suppose I could spell cushioning onto the furniture to prevent any falls from hurting you,” Snape finally spoke. “Clearing the room would only be a short term solution, and I feel the quicker you master this particular lesson, the better off we both will be.”

“As far as lessons go, it’s my least favourite,” Harry admitted as he cleaned his plate. “I’ll be glad once we can move on to something better.” 

Snape was thinking again, and the movement of his finger was driving Harry insane.

“Can you stop doing that?” He snapped before he could stop himself.

“Doing what?” Snape’s eyebrows drew in as he frowned in confusion.

This was exactly what Snape meant when he said that Harry needed to learn to think before he spoke. “Uh…. nothing.” He hurried over to brush his teeth. He was never going to become flaccid at this rate. The thought of taking off his clothes and revealing his hard-on to Snape made him want to die of embarrassment. He needed to take care of it before he went to practice. “Can I have fifteen minutes alone?”

“Why do you need fifteen minutes?” asked Snape suspiciously.

“No reason, I just err….like to meditate occasionally.”

“You like to meditate?” Snape asked in a tone which clearly communicated that he knew Harry was lying. 

Harry kept his back to Snape. “I need to wank, okay?!”

Snape made a noise of derision. “Teenagers.” He pushed back his chair and strode out of the cell. Once Harry heard the library door close, he dashed to the toilet, yanked down his bottoms, and grabbed his dick as if he were meeting it for the first time. He only needed to pull his foreskin up over his swollen head and back five times before he was coming, his cock spurting ferociously as he sprayed his semen into the toilet bowl. 

After he had calmed down, he went through the rest of his morning routine. Snape stepped back into the hallway when Harry was putting on his deodorant.

“Have you finished, or should I leave until you can get a hold of yourself?”

“Ha ha,” Harry muttered. “I’m finished.” He stripped and dumped his clothes on the bed. Snape opened the bars for him and he stepped through, following the Death Eater upstairs. He refused to be embarrassed by his masturbatory habits. He was a healthy teenager who had spent the previous night looking at pictures of naked women. 

“ _Lentesco_!” Snape cast on each piece of furniture. Harry touched the table and was surprised to find that it was soft as a pillow. He was amazed that it could still stand.

“Put your hands behind your back.”

Harry did so, moving to the centre of the room once he was chained. Snape started the exercise, only sending a few balls towards Harry at a time. Even with the low number of projectiles, Harry stumbled as he tried to escape. He doggedly kept dodging until he was able to evade three without falling arse over tits every five minutes. By the time Snape added a fourth projectile, he had figured things out and managed to stay upright until Snape added the fifth. Five confused him, and he stumbled quite a few times before they stopped for lunch. 

“Can we go back to you trying to hex me and me trying to escape?” Harry requested once Snape had entered the room with lunch and unchained his wrists. 

“’May we,’ Potter,” corrected Snape. “We will practice in that style tomorrow. For now, I want you to concentrate on this task.”

“Will you show me how to break through the chains now?”

“Did you think before saying that?” Snape raised an eyebrow at him.

“No,” admitted Harry.

“I want you to use at least one word that begins with a ‘t’ in every sentence you speak to me for the rest of the day,” Snape said.

“Why?”

“That wasn’t a sentence.”

“Why d’you want me to use words that begin with ‘t’?” Harry asked.

“So you will think before you talk.”

“Okay… I will… try that.” Harry returned to his sandwich before he remembered his original question. “So… will you show me how to break through the chains?”

“Not until you have mastered dodging while bound,” Snape insisted. “Otherwise you won’t practice to the best of your ability.”

Harry pushed away his empty plate. “Can we begin now?”

Snape frowned at him.

“Oh yeah… um… can we train now?”

“’May,’ Potter,” Snape sighed. “’May we train.’” He stood up and recast the chaining spell between Harry’s cuffs. 

They practiced for a few more hours, Harry able to dodge five fairly successfully by the end. Snape stopped the exercise short of their normal ending time.

“No more for today?” Harry asked in disappointment.

“I have fallen behind in my brewing,” admitted Snape. “If I don’t catch up soon, the Dark Lord will have my head.”

“Then you should go,” Harry acknowledged. 

“Put on the muscle potion this time,” Snape reminded him as they stepped into the bathroom. 

“I won’t forget,” he nodded then quickly added, “to put the potion on.”

Snape took his chair.

Harry climbed into the tub. “I think I’m going to ask for treacle tarts when I win tomorrow.” 

“And if you lose, you will clean the throne room,” Snape answered.

“Aren’t you going to make me work in your potions lab or something like that?” Harry asked him curiously.

“You are forbidden from that location,” Snape reminded him.

“Still?”

“‘T’ words, Potter,” Snape insisted.

“Um… I’m still forbidden from that location?”

“You will always be,” confirmed Snape. 

“That’s annoying,” Harry frowned and ducked under the water to rinse his hair.

“I never would have thought you’d be eager to visit my potions lab.”

“It’s better than doing nothing in my cell.” He stepped out of the tub. “Not as good as training of course,” He quickly added, picking up the potion.

“I imagine few things are for you.”

“Yeah…” Harry worked the potion into his legs. “If you thought my last request was strange, you are going to think this one is outrageous.” He shifted his body to look at Snape. “I’d like to read some books on theories behind different kinds of offensive magic. If you won’t let me practise it, then I want to try to learn it through theory. Hermione had me study the theory behind summoning charms when I couldn’t do it on my own, and it worked pretty well, so I think it could help me here too.”

Snape moved forward and put his hand on Harry’s forehead. “You don’t feel feverish. Are you sure you aren’t ill?”

Harry tried to laugh and scowl at the same time. “Oh come on, I know I’m not the best student, but this is something I really have to learn.”

“Yes…” agreed Snape, taking the potion from him and rubbing it into Harry’s shoulders. “I am sorry to tell you that I can not give you any wizarding books. Purebloods will dismiss Muggle literature as trash but regard any form of magical knowledge as dangerous. I do not have time to copy the words by hand, nor would it be safe for me to do so. Books can be dismissed, notes and scrolls can not.” 

“Don’t you think I should learn at least some offensive spells?” Harry leaned forward so Snape could access the rest of his back with ease. 

“You already know a fair amount. Besides, did you not evade the Dark Lord with _Expelliarmus_?” Snape’s expert fingers worked out the tension in Harry’s lower back. Harry wanted to lie down on the rug and let Snape give him a full body massage, but he knew Snape needed to go brew.

“Yeah, but that only stopped him because of my wand, which was destroyed,” Harry admitted. 

Snape washed his hands in the sink. “Then try to take his. They were twins, were they not?”

“That’s true… if I grabbed a random wand it would probably harm me, but if I get his I should be able to wield it,” Harry mused as he pulled the towel around himself.

Snape led him back to his cage. “I would not suggest using any other wand unless you have had the chance to wield it before the final battle.”

Harry sat down in his chair. “So I should just destroy them? I mean, if a Death Eater lost his wand and I came across it or I disarmed him.”

“That is what I would advise.” Snape tapped the table to produce dinner for Harry. 

Harry began to eat his stew when a thought suddenly occurred to him. “How do you have time to make all this food and keep it warm or cold? I am with you for at least eight hours of the day, maybe as much as twelve and yet you always have three meals pre-made.” 

“I do not require as much rest as you. I have several hours of my own before you wake and after you sleep,” Snape explained. “I use a magical device to keep the food fresh and at the proper temperature.”

“I thought there wasn’t supposed to be magic used around me?”

“The Dark Lord wishes for the magic to be minimised, but I managed to convince him to not forbid any magic in your presence,” Snape stepped out through the bars. “I must attend to my duties. If you wish to train in your cage, I’d suggest learning how to get to your feet from the floor as quickly as possible. Spread the sheets out on the tiles so that you don’t injure yourself.”

“I won’t,” Harry promised. “I mean… um… I’ll soften the tiles.”

Snape walked off.

Harry wasn’t really very hungry yet, so he put down his spoon and did as Snape suggested. He practiced getting to his feet while his hands were chained; simulating the experience by clasping his hands in front of himself and behind his back. He stopped before he felt tired and finished his meal before dressing. 

He lifted his mattress to retrieve the art book when he saw his myth book. He pulled that book out instead and sat on the edge of the bed, examining his note. Touching the letters made him lonely for Hermione and Ron. Was he really trapped in here with no way out? Harry trusted Snape not to hurt him unnecessarily, but…

Harry carefully re-rolled the letter and returned it to the book. Snape was his enemy and he had been pretending to not hate Snape for so long he had almost believed it. Dumbledore had given him a task, and he needed to fulfil it. Ron and Hermione would do their best but they needed him. He needed them. 

He put the book back under the mattress and slid under the covers. The loneliness that had been buried in his chest slowly seeped out into all his bones. He had spent most of his life alone, but now he wanted nothing more than to laugh with Ron, talk with Hermione, and snog Ginny. He wanted to watch the twins play pranks, listen to Mrs. Weasley scolding her children, help Hagrid with whatever horrible new pet he had recently acquired, listen to Professor McGonagall’s lectures, and help the Order. He wondered how Tonks, Lupin, and the others were doing without him. Would they know what to do if he died here? If Voldemort managed to kill him, would the Dark Lord be unstoppable?

The questions were too horrible for him to think about for long, and he pushed the dark thoughts to the side. He’d be strong and he’d get through this. 

He kept his head full of memories of his training sessions until he fell asleep.

~ Harry didn’t sleep well and he woke up feeling very tired, but unable to go back to sleep. He didn’t feel like reading, but there wasn’t much else for him to do. He considered training, but he wanted to be in top form for his later competition with Snape. 

Snape strode in and stepped through the bars. 

“Aren’t you going to attack me to- AH!” Harry narrowly missed a spell that seemed to come out of nowhere.

“I won’t attack you when you expect it,” said Snape with amusement in his voice as he tapped the table twice with his wand. 

Harry took his place. “Ooooh, I love crepes.” He picked up the bowl of strawberries and syrup to add some to his plate. The smell of strawberries made him remember the lubrication Snape used, and he put it down quickly.

“Something wrong?” Snape asked over his tea.

“Uh, I just don’t feel like strawberries today.” Harry pushed it over to Snape’s side of the table and decorated his crepes with the remaining ingredients. 

“Probably for the best. You always make a mess when you eat them.” Snape cleared away the dish.

“I’d like to see you try to eat crepes with a spoon. Can’t I have a knife or fork sometime?” He spread the whipped cream out with his fingers.

“No, you could harm yourself or a Death Eater with one,” Snape pointed out. “Why don’t you use your spoon to do that?” 

“I always get my hands dirty anyway,” Harry explained as he rolled up a crepe and ate it. He loved stuffing them so full that most of the ingredients fell out and he had to use the last crepe to scoop up what remained on his plate. Even without the strawberries, they were very good and he was licking and sucking his fingers clean when Snape irritably said, “Stop that!”

“Hmm?” He asked, glancing up at the Death Eater, his index finger still in his mouth.

“Go wash your hands in the sink,” Snape ordered in an irritated voice. “And next time, use a spoon.”

“If my eating offends you so much, then don’t look at me,” Harry glared at Snape but did as was requested of him. 

“I wasn’t. You were making so much noise it was impossible to ignore you,” Snape complained, glaring at Harry.

Geeze, what was his problem? Harry stripped and went through his morning routine. It wasn’t like Harry had asked the Death Eater to join him for breakfast in the morning. Snape was impossible to figure out. He got angry over mild things, yet let some of Harry’s biggest challenges to his authority slide right off his back. Not to mention he could torture Harry one minute and touch him with gentleness the next. 

He finished brushing his teeth and followed Snape upstairs. 

“You will train without furniture today,” Snape informed him as they stepped into an empty room.

Harry nodded and moved to the centre. “Better stock your kitchen.”

“So sure that you will win, Potter?” Snape set up the balls and then tossed Harry the laser pointer.

“Yes, I will.” Harry efficiently dodged the first round. 

Even though it had been a while since Harry had attempted to best Snape at this exercise, he effortlessly took out the fake Death Eaters as if he had been practicing it every day. Harry thought it was incredibly unfair that Snape got to wear robes that confused Harry, while Harry’s body was entirely on display for the Death Eater to target with precision. 

Despite Harry’s disadvantages, neither had been hit by the time Snape stopped the exercise. 

“That’s enough for today.”

“That’s it?” Harry fell to the floor and panted.

“You must be in your cell when the Dark Lord returns,” Snape explained.

“Oh,” Harry got to his feet. “Who is it tonight?” He didn’t know why he always wanted to know, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking. 

“Either Avery or Bellatrix,” said Snape tightly as he led Harry back to his cell.

Bellatrix he could deal with, but he wasn’t sure what Avery would do.

“Can you do anything to make sure Bellatrix ‘wins’ this time?” Harry pleaded. “I won’t be able to train properly if Avery hurts me a lot.”

“You don’t know for what you are asking,” said Snape harshly. 

Harry thought he did, but he knew it was pointless to argue with the Death Eater. He sat down in his chair and watched Snape summon a large lunch for him. He knew he wouldn’t be fed that night so he organised the food into things he could eat now and things he could put aside for later. He heard Snape walk off as he pushed the rolls into the ‘save for later’ pile. 

Snape wouldn’t let Avery rape him, would he? Harry remembered how the Death Eater had said Avery had some sort of disease that he’d give to Harry if he had sex with him. Harry had never wanted Snape to enjoy sex with him, but now he did. If Snape hated the sex then he wouldn’t mind if Harry were given to Avery. If Snape enjoyed the sex and wanted more of it, then he would do everything in his power to prevent Avery from touching Harry just to keep Harry clean for himself. 

Harry couldn’t eat any more of his meal. He slid into the bed and held the pillow tightly against his aching chest. Should he have tried to be better in bed to encourage Snape? He needed Ron for strategy. He was terrible at it. He hadn’t seen this coming at all even though he should have. Avery would have won Voldemort’s favour back eventually, and then he would take out his anger on Harry. Even if Snape stopped Avery from raping Harry, Avery would still be angry at being denied the chance to do so. He’d torture Harry worse than any Death Eater yet.

Harry’s meal was still untouched when Snape finally stepped into the hallway. Harry forced himself to move across the room to the bars. 

Snape grabbed Harry’s upper arm and pulled him through the bars after spelling the chain. “I did this for you so you will train to the best of your ability in the days to come. Don’t forget that,” he hissed as he led Harry upstairs.

Relief flooded through Harry. Snape had made sure Bellatrix would be the one to torture him tonight! Harry forced himself to keep his grin off his face. Being tortured by Bellatrix was nothing to smile about. Still, he couldn’t help but be happy that he was being delivered to her instead of Avery. 

When he stepped into the throne room, he couldn’t have been more delighted to be given to Bellatrix for the evening. Even with his terrible vision he could tell that Avery was in a thunderous rage. Bellatrix, the cat who got the cream, perched proudly on the edge of the dais, watching Harry with a hungry expression running through her entire body. 

Snape pushed Harry to the floor and walked over to stand on the dais on the other side of Voldemort. 

“ _Crucio_!”

Harry appreciated Bellatrix’s predictability. He had survived her Cruciatus before, and he could survive it again. She loved casting it on him, her eyes rolling back in her head and her body shaking as though she were orgasming after a particularly long session. He dutifully shook and twisted, screaming his head off as was expected. He wasn’t entirely pretending. It hurt like hell, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to move at all the next day without Snape’s help, but it didn’t hurt nearly as much as it had at the beginning. 

“That will be enough, Bella,” Voldemort finally said in an affectionate tone.

Harry lay on the floor and tried to regulate his breathing so that he wouldn’t cause more pain to his hurting chest. Snape grabbed him by the arm and yanked him to his feet. He managed to swallow the bile that rose up in his throat and stumble after the Death Eater as he was roughly dragged back to his cell. Snape fed him a pain reliever and left. 

Harry waited for the pain killer to kick in. As much as he hurt, he knew it could’ve been much, much worse. He was so grateful to Snape for his help. He wished he knew of someway to make it up to the Death Eater. The huge knot in his stomach had disappeared, and he let himself sleep.

~

Harry woke when Snape picked him up with magic. “Mmm… thanks.”

“Rest now,” Snape instructed as he floated Harry into the bathroom. Harry closed his eyes and heard the taps run. It was a very relaxing sound, and he was almost drifting off again when Snape lowered him into the water. He felt invisible bands bind him against the tub so that his head wouldn’t slip under the water. 

Snape moved around the bathroom and Harry opened his eyes when he felt the Death Eater pick up his hand. Snape began to rub the potion he had created into Harry’s arms with practiced strokes. His forearms were exposed and his Dark Mark moved rhythmically. Harry watched it with interest, wondering what it felt like when it burned. Would Voldemort put it on him eventually? 

“Will he… give me one…too?”

“What are you asking?” Snape moved closer to lift Harry’s other arm, his scent filling the air, mixing with the smell of the potion. 

“Volde…mort…the Dark…Mark…”

“No, he has no need to give you one.” Snape’s hands moved down over Harry’s chest.

“He won’t… try… to make me… like him?” Harry noticed Snape’s hair was tied back in a low ponytail.

“He won’t accept a co-ruler, and he wouldn’t trust you as a Death Eater,” Snape explained as his hands worked their way south, passing quickly over Harry’s genitalia. 

“I’m glad….I’d die… first.”

“I know,” Snape began to work on Harry’s legs. “And he knows.”

Harry allowed himself to drift off; satisfied that Snape would take care of him and heal him until he was ready to train again. 

[[Thanks for your reviews! Please give me more!]] 


	26. Chapter 26

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

Harry woke in his bed, dressed and tucked under the sheets. He relaxed against the blankets until the call of nature propelled him out of bed and to the toilet. His limbs felt heavy, as if he were wearing invisible weights, and all of his senses seemed to be numb. His eyesight was so bad he had to feel the toilet like a blind man before he was sure he would pee in the bowl instead of on the rim. 

He had just returned to bed when Snape arrived. 

“How do you feel?” 

“Like someone wrapped me in heavy cling film when I was sleeping,” Harry answered. “My eyesight is terrible, is that normal?” 

The giant black smudge that was Snape stepped over to the table and Harry smelt rather than saw the food. “It is…this is the first time you’ve been awake the morning after the Cruciatus. The last time Bellatrix tortured you, you slept until the late afternoon.” 

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Harry yawned as he carefully climbed into his chair. 

“It would be best for you to rest as much as possible today. We should be able to resume our normal training session tomorrow. You don’t want to strain your muscles while they are healing,” explained Snape as he sipped his tea. 

“Mm.” His porridge had strawberries on the side but he was so tired and his senses so limited that the smell didn’t bother him and he poured the whole container into his bowl. 

Snape was silent throughout breakfast. Harry could tell the Death Eater was deep in thought by the way he held his teacup. Snape cleared the dishes when Harry was finished and then left silently. 

Harry tried reading, but the letters swam before his eyes so he slept until Snape arrived to bring him lunch. 

“Have you been brewing?” His eyesight had improved; he could see Snape’s face this time, a pale smudge in a sea of black with the thick lines of the eyebrows perched prominently on top. 

“Yes, I have,” Snape’s wand brought forth a thick beef stew for Harry and he ate it slowly, savouring the taste. 

Snape did not produce a meal for himself. Instead, he stepped out of the cell as soon as he had served Harry’s meal. 

“Wait!” Harry’s voice made Snape pause. “Can you give me the laser pointer and let me try targeting?” 

Snape nodded. “Wait here.” 

Harry worked on his stew but wasn’t finished by the time Snape returned with the balls. The Death Eater spelled them to move around the walls and handed Harry the pointer before striding off quickly. 

After Harry finished his meal, he retreated to his bed where he sat and shot down the balls one by one. It took him much longer than usual with his terrible eyesight and he was still targeting them when Snape showed up for dinner. 

“Has your vision not returned fully?” 

“I think it has now.” Harry squinted at Snape, trying to remember if he was normally so fuzzy. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it has.” 

“And your muscles?” Snape spelled food on the table. 

“They are fine; I should be able to train like normal tomorrow. What do you have planned?” he asked curiously as he slid into his chair. 

“First, dodging while restrained, then, if you do well enough, your favourite activity,” Snape sent the balls away. 

“Yes! I can’t wait.” Harry dug into his pork chops. 

Snape left, which disappointed Harry. He had had a pretty boring day and wanted to speak just to pass the time. The Death Eater seemed preoccupied with something. Normally he engaged Harry in a bit of conversation when he served him his meals. Harry was curious about what had Snape so distracted, but he had the feeling asking wouldn’t get him any answers. However, if Snape was so preoccupied tomorrow, then he’d ask. 

He returned to his bed and read Cosmos until he fell asleep. ~ 

Ginny was standing in his cell, glaring at the bed. 

“I don’t see why we have to sleep here and Snape gets the upstairs bedroom. I hate the bars.” 

“This bed is bigger,” Harry reminded her. “Maybe we can put up curtains over the bars.” 

“I’m going to sleep with Snape,” she declared and stormed out through the bars. 

“Ginny…” he tried to trail after her, but she had vanished from sight. He walked through the library and up the stairs. He searched through the house, finding another library, a garage full of cars, a greenhouse, and a huge cupboard full of black robes. 

He finally found Ginny in the kitchen with Snape, who was drinking tea. 

“Harry, I’m going to be Snape’s girlfriend now.” 

“Wha? Why?” 

“He cooks my meals, gives me potions, has a larger room, and is probably better in bed.” 

“He is not,” challenged Harry. 

“Okay, we will have a contest,” suggested Ginny. “Whoever pleases me more gets to be my boyfriend.” 

“Fine,” said Harry. “You two go first.” 

Snape and Ginny left the room together. 

Harry ran down to his cell and tidied it up. Snape was bigger and had more experience, but Harry thought he could win this battle. Snape had no idea what it was like to be the woman, so he wouldn’t know the best things to do. 

When Ginny entered the hallway, Harry was ready. He carefully undressed her and laid her on the bed on her back. He kissed her as he ran his hands over her torso, caressing everywhere but the parts he most wanted to touch. When she was pressing against him in eager anticipation, he shifted down to stroke her between her legs as he sucked a nipple into his mouth. 

He licked and sucked and rubbed her until she begged for his fingers. He sat up and cast the cleaning and lubrication spells on her before he smeared lube on his fingers and pressed them inside her. She was warm and wet like Snape’s mouth and he bent his head to lick her as he carefully stretched her. 

“Your cock, Harry! Give me your cock!” She demanded and he turned her over and put her on her knees. 

He went inside her and it was glorious and he was fucking her hard. He reached around to stroke her and she orgasmed, her come wettening his fingers as she did so. His own orgasm took him hard and he spilled everything he had inside of her. 

Once his penis had finished twitching, he carefully pulled out and lay down on the bed, pulling her against him and wrapping his arms around her. He rubbed her back lightly and stroked her hair while they both caught their breath. 

“You were so good, Harry!” she gasped. “Way better than Snape! How did you know exactly what I wanted?” 

“I just know you,” he slyly replied. 

She started snogging him again and it was so good, he fell off the bed and woke up. 

A dream? At least it was a straight sex dream with Ginny. The potions always gave him strange dreams. The inside of his pyjama bottoms were a sticky mess and he trudged over to the sink to wash them. He didn’t want Snape to know about his bizarre dream, so he also pulled off his shirt, pretending as though he had stripped in preparation for this lesson early. 

Snape stepped into the hallway and scanned Harry’s body. 

“I couldn’t wait to train,” Harry informed him as he moved to sit in his chair. 

Snape spelled food on the table and sat across from Harry. “I had no idea you were so eager to clean.” 

“If you win,” Harry challenged immediately. 

“Think before you speak,” Snape reminded him. “Today you must use words that begin with ‘S.’” 

“Okay, that shouldn’t be too hard.” Harry grinned. “So…” 

“And ‘so’ does not count.” Snape quickly added. 

“What?” Harry frowned. “That’s cheating!” 

“Words that begin with ‘S,’ Potter,” Snape prodded. 

“That’s very Slytherin of you, sir,” Harry said. “And yeah, I guess ‘sir’ doesn’t count either? Oh wait…that didn’t have an ‘S’ word. Um….” 

Snape watched him. 

“Does ‘sir’ count as a word I shouldn’t say?” 

“Try again, Potter,” Snape sipped his tea. “You are supposed to say ‘sir.’” 

Harry thought. “Alright… is ‘sir’ a word that doesn’t count for the ‘S’ words in my sentence?” 

“Yes, it does not count,” Snape answered. 

“I think this will be… not as simple as ‘T’ words.” 

“It won’t, but you will never learn to think first if I make it easy for you. Be glad that I didn’t start with ‘W.’” 

“That would be… I can’t think of an ‘S’ word for this sentence, sorry.” 

“I gather you were trying to say something along the lines of impossible or difficult?” Snape asked. 

Harry nodded. “That’s what I wanted to say.” 

“You could use severe, strenuous, or an antonym such as simple,” offered Snape. 

“I think I’ll need a thesaurus to speak with you,” Harry joked. 

“You desperately need a larger vocabulary…especially in the bedroom. I’ve never heard anyone say ‘fuck’ so many times.” 

Harry cast his eyes down at his eggs, feeling his face burn with embarrassment. Was he still talking without knowing what he was saying? 

“Finish your meal,” Snape said quickly. “We should begin training soon.” 

Harry did as Snape asked and quickly completed his morning routine. He stepped out through the bars and followed Snape upstairs to the practice room. 

“Clasp your hands together in front of your stomach.” 

Harry did so, and Snape conjured the chain. Once Harry was chained, Snape stepped away and started the exercise. 

Harry dodged with finesse, avoiding everything Snape sent at him. When it became clear that having Harry’s hands bound in front of him did not impact his ability to dodge, Snape stopped the exercise. 

“Now put your hands behind you,” ordered Snape as he removed the chain. 

Harry did so, dreading what was to come. He was terrible at dodging with his hands tied behind his back. 

“I hope to be finished with this…situation soon,” Harry complained as he walked to the centre of the room. 

Snape spelled the furniture soft and began the lessons. “It is important that you master this lesson as efficiently as possible.” 

Harry ducked out of the way as two balls raced towards him and stepped to the side of a bookcase to avoid being hit by another. He had gotten better through practice and had only fallen a few times when Snape stopped for lunch. 

“Can we do hex dodging now?” He eagerly asked once Snape entered the room with plates of food. 

“Potter…” Snape growled. 

“Oh yeah…” Harry frowned as he thought. “Can we do the lesson where you send spells at me and I dodge now, sir?” 

“You keep using ‘can’ when you mean ‘may,’” Snape informed him. “You should use ‘may’ when you wish to ask permission and ‘can’ when you are questioning your ability. I have no doubt that you are able to perform your favourite lesson, but unless you learn the difference between ‘may’ and ‘can’ I may not let you.” 

“Huh, I had no idea. Oops! I mean… fuck, this is hard, er… not simple,” he finally managed to say. 

Snape sighed. “I have the feeling this will be the most difficult lesson for you to learn yet.” 

“Probably, maybe you should give me a reward if I don’t forget once in a day,” Harry suggested hopefully. 

“Are you realizing you will never win our contest unless you cheat?” Snape smirked. 

“No!” Harry emphatically shook his head. “I figure I should ease you into giving me stuff since you are going to be doing a lot of it soon. Maybe I will have a special meal made every day of the week.” 

“I look forward to a clean house.” 

“Oh yeah,” Harry challenged. “If you are so sure that you will win, then take this wager… if I win, I get to be on top during sex.” 

Snape stood up. “Let’s begin the lesson.” He spelled away their finished plates and the furniture. 

Harry eagerly moved to the centre of the room and watched Snape closely to make sure the Death Eater did not cheat. The exercise began, and Harry easily took out the fake Death Eaters. He approached Snape and danced in front of him. 

“I can’t believe you can’t hit me with a spell,” he teased, “I’m right in front of you...seriously.” 

“It is far more amusing to watch you run around like a chicken with its head cut off,” Snape retorted, sending a rapid series of six at Harry. 

Harry barely managed to escape without being hit. “If I had my glasses and magic I’d beat you.” 

“You would still lose,” Snape told him. “And you forgot to use an ‘S’ word.” 

“Fu- I mean, shite,” Harry smacked his forehead and almost was hit by a hex. 

“You let your guard down far too often,” Snape informed him. “How will you ever defeat the Dark Lord if you keep getting distracted?” 

“I’ll distract him, of course! You see… I’ll tell him that I’m you and we’ve polyjuiced each other.” Harry narrowly missed being hit by a curse. “I think I could pull off a… surprisingly good you.” He spoke in his deepest voice, “Potter is an idiot. I’m going to go wank in my potions lab as I think up ways to torture students.” 

“If you are trying to provoke me, it won’t work,” Snape informed him. “Besides, I doubt I could act sufficiently brain dead enough to properly portray you.” 

“I think you will be undone when Voldemort realizes you don’t have my special skills,” Harry retorted. “Like my reflexes!” He deftly reached out, caught a ball and lobbed it at Snape, smacking the surprised Death Eater in the chest. 

“Cheating, again?” Snape tried to confuse him with several faints. “And here I thought Gryffindors had honour.” 

“Maybe the Slytherin in you is rubbing off on me.” Harry grinned. “I’m just showing you that if I had magic, a wand, and my glasses, you’d be flat on your back.” 

“Don’t be so sure of yourself, Potter,” Snape challenged. He finally managed to hit Harry on the shoulder. 

“I guess I’m cleaning another room…soon,” Harry grudgingly admitted. 

“It was a valid attempt,” said Snape triumphantly. “And enough for this evening, follow me.” 

Harry followed Snape downstairs. He had had so much fun he didn’t really care that he lost. He felt pretty confident that if he had gone up against Snape fully restored, he would have put up a very good fight, even if he didn’t beat him. He was proud of himself for how far he had managed to push his training in such a short time. It was a shame Snape was always a git while he had been teaching Harry at Hogwarts. If Snape had trained him like this before, then Harry would’ve never ended up here. 

“So what room will it be this time?” Harry asked as he soaped up his chest. “Oh wait, ‘so’ doesn’t count…um…” 

Snape waited in his chair. 

“Which room will I… sanitize?” 

“Terrible, Potter,” Snape shook his head. “You could say… ‘which section of the house’ or ‘which room will I straighten up.’ You could also refer to certain acts of cleaning such as sweep, scrub, soap, sponge, spruce up, etc.” 

Harry turned around and stared at him. “Did you swallow a thesaurus?” 

“I read. You should try it sometime.” 

Harry rinsed off and climbed out of the tub. “I’d like to. Would you let me search your library for books?” 

“Yes, tomorrow after practice,” agreed Snape. 

“Brilliant.” Harry began to rub the potion into his legs. “I will be done with Cosmos in another few days. It’s a really interesting book. I like looking at the pictures of what alien species or worlds would look like. I wish Astronomy at Hogwarts was taught from that book. I would’ve enjoyed it then I think.” 

Snape helped him massage the lotion into his back. “Do you see what I mean about the dangers of rote memorization? Astronomy consists of much more than just identifying constellations and yet that knowledge is kept from you to inhibit your curiosity about the world around you.” 

“How do you make a spell?” Harry asked, intrigued. “I’d like to try it once I get my magic back.” 

Snape finished rubbing the potion into Harry’s upper arms and stepped away to wash his hands in the sink. “It is difficult to explain to an individual with no access to magic.” 

Harry wrapped himself in a towel and headed back to his cell. “Will you show me once I get it back, then?” “Once your magic is returned to you, you will defeat the Dark Lord and then we will both be free of each other,” Snape reminded him as he spelled food on the table. 

“Oh, yeah.” It startled Harry to remember that he and Snape would go back to hating each other once they were free of this place. He had gotten so used to Snape teaching him that he hadn’t remembered that it was all temporary, and they would both part ways as soon as Harry left the prison. It disappointed him; Snape was a very good instructor and an amazingly powerful wizard. Harry would be a fearsome Auror if he had instruction from someone like Snape. 

But Snape wouldn’t help Harry, would he? He had admitted that he wanted Voldemort destroyed not because it was the right thing to do but because he wanted to be free of someone he regarded as a pest. He wouldn’t help Harry after all this was over if he was telling the truth and only wanted Voldemort destroyed to get rid of him. If Snape was planning on becoming the next Dark Lord, then Harry was probably expendable. Snape knew that Harry would stop at nothing to defeat Voldemort and he had to know Harry wouldn’t kill one Dark Lord just to let another take its place. He’d have to kill Harry as soon as Harry defeated Voldemort. 

What was Snape really after? Whose side was he really on? Harry suddenly remembered the dream he had had after Voldemort’s torture session. Dumbledore had told him that he asked Snape to kill him and that Harry should trust the Death Eater to look out for him. Harry had dismissed it immediately as pure nonsense, but he wasn’t so sure now. Dumbledore had been poisoned by the Horcrux and, based on Harry’s experiences with the other Horcruxes, it was very probable that such a poisoning would have eventually killed the powerful wizard. However, if Snape was on Dumbledore’s side and was helping Harry because he really was a good guy and wanted to defeat Voldemort, then why had he lied to Harry and told him that it was because the Death Eater wanted to be free of an irksome master? Harry knew Snape was hiding things from him, and lying to him no matter where his true loyalties lay. 

“You are normally not this quiet,” Snape observed, watching Harry over his teacup. “What are you thinking about?” 

Harry focused on his potatoes. “I was just thinking about all the things I’ll have to learn before I’m ready to fight him,” he lied. 

Snape finished his tea and sent the empty cup away. “Dodging is the most important skill for you to have right now. Focus on that first; the rest will come to you.” He paused and then turned his face away from Harry’s. “We should perform tonight.” 

“Okay.” Harry cleaned his plate, ignoring the twitch in his penis. Although he hated having sex with Snape, he wasn’t about to turn down an orgasm, much less head. Besides, after Snape had helped him with Avery, he sort of felt like he owed Snape and he didn’t want to be in the Death Eater’s debt. 

Once he had finished his meal, he stood up and walked to the bed, dropping his towel on the floor as he climbed onto the mattress and lay on his stomach, facing the wall. He heard Snape undress behind him. It always took Snape a long time to take off his clothes and Harry wondered why he bothered getting fully dressed on the days when they would be having sex. His cock was getting very excited by what was to come and steadily thickened despite his best efforts to ignore it. He didn’t want Snape to see him fully hard; the Death Eater would think Harry wanted it. 

Snape finally climbed onto the bed and touched Harry’s hip. Harry rolled over, keeping his eyes away from Snape. He felt the spells cast and then Snape bent down to lick Harry’s left nipple. Harry arched up against his mouth, clenching his pillow tightly as Snape began to tease the right one with his fingers as he worked the left with his mouth. Harry had to bite his lip to stop from moaning aloud in pleasure at the sensation of having his nipples played with. Snape’s hot mouth sucked on the small nubs the way he had sucked on Harry’s cock, and when Snape turned to take the right one into his mouth, Harry was so fucking hard he was worried he was going to blow just from having his nipples sucked. 

Luckily, Snape released his chest then and opened the lubrication jar. Harry dutifully spread his legs, staring up at the ceiling as he waited for his favourite part. Snape pushed a finger inside of him and added a second shortly, fucking Harry with them slowly. 

He wasn’t going to do it, Harry realised. Snape had given him head that first time to get Harry to relax, not because he was gay. 

“Give me your mouth… please…” Harry begged. He thought about refusing to let Snape go inside unless he got head first but the Death Eater could just force him completely if he needed to. 

Snape’s fingers stilled inside of Harry. “Look, it’s best to show the Dark Lord one complete session. You don’t need it to relax.” 

“I want it,” Harry insisted. “If I am going to be the woman, then I want it.” 

“Don’t be stupid,” Snape said impatiently. “Women don’t have prostates.” He pressed his fingers against that spot inside Harry before withdrawing them. 

“Please… if you give me three more I’ll even give you one,” Harry offered, sitting up. 

“No,” said Snape firmly. 

“Fine, two,” Harry persisted. Snape’s refusal, even at the offer of receiving a blowjob, made Harry just want to get head even more. 

“No, I don’t want fellatio-” 

“WHA-?!” The man was a liar. 

“From you,” Snape clarified. “I want to get this whole process finished with as soon as possible. I certainly do not want to lengthen it with other acts.” 

“I want to have sex with Ginny, but that isn’t going to happen, is it? If we have to do it, then we might as well make the best of it.” Harry reached forward and circled his fingers around Snape’s cock. 

Snape grabbed Harry’s wrist and yanked his hand away immediately. “I don’t want that.” He pushed Harry back down on the bed. “I will do as you request, but you owe me.” 

“Fine,” Harry quickly agreed. He was happy to have won this battle. He doubted he’d be in this prison long enough to have to give Snape head more than once at the most. 

“You will do any training I give to you without complaint and defer to me in front of the other Death Eaters in order to convince them that I have cowed you,” Snape insisted. 

“Okay,” Harry nodded. He had gotten quite good at playing submissive to Snape around others, and he didn’t mind it as long as both of them knew it was just an act. 

Snape shifted his body to get into position. He bent down to take Harry into his hot mouth, enveloping the head of Harry’s penis in one swift stroke. Harry moaned in pleasure and curled up one knee, bending his leg to the side so Snape had greater access to his body. Snape firmly held Harry down with the hand he had wrapped around the base of Harry’s cock. He began to bob his head over Harry’s penis, as a finger slid back inside of him. A second one joined the first as Snape rubbed between Harry’s balls with his thumb. 

“Oh, yes!” Harry gasped, grabbing his pillow tightly as he tried to get Snape to move his fingers over that spot inside of him. “More… touch me…” Snape figured out what Harry wanted and began finger fucking him while sucking hard on Harry’s prick. 

“Fuck, fuck, oh fuck!” Harry cried as he thrust between Snape’s fingers and Snape’s mouth. He had been so hard he was already close to orgasm, his entire body taut as he rushed toward release. “Oh my god, I’m going to come.” He reached down to grab Snape’s hair. 

Snape lifted his head and removed his fingers. Harry released him and lay back down, panting for breath. 

“Lie down on the bed on your stomach,” instructed Snape. 

Harry flipped over and held himself still. He heard and felt Snape move off the bed. After a bit, Snape climbed on the bed, pretending that it was the first time he had approached Harry that evening. He cast the spells again and tugged on the pillow. Harry lifted his head so Snape could slide it out from under him. Snape curled his fingers around Harry’s hip and Harry obediently raised his arse so Snape could slide the pillow under his stomach. 

Harry was so hard, he wanted Snape to just go inside so he could orgasm already, but Snape was still pretending and he started with fingers first. Harry bit his lip as he tried to ignore his desperate prick. 

Finally, just as Harry was about the scream at Snape in frustration, the Death Eater pressed himself inside. Harry moaned in pleasure and pressed back against him, trying to get him to hurry up. He understood what Snape had been trying to tell him the first time. Snape’s cock slid in easily when he pushed back against it, the thick length stretching him slowly. Once Snape was completely inside, he put his arms on either side of Harry’s upper torso and began to thrust, rocking Harry against the bed. Harry tried to thrust back against Snape’s body, enjoying the feel of skin pressed against his own. 

Snape fucked him slow and deep, burying himself to his balls with each stroke. It felt good, but Harry couldn’t come with his dick trapped in the sheets. Luckily, Snape pushed himself up on his hands, removing his body from Harry’s as he continued to thrust. The new position wasn’t hitting Harry right so he propped himself up on his elbows and curled his legs up under him to raise up his arse. The shift in position freed his cock and let Snape strike his prostate completely with each stroke. Yes, fuck yes! Harry bit his lip to stop himself from crying out. It didn’t bother him to be on his knees this time, especially when Snape slid one hand down Harry’s chest and curled his long fingers around the young wizard’s prick. 

Harry cried out in pleasure and pushed his cock against Snape’s fingers until his entire body was tingling with electricity and he was pouring himself out on the sheets, the rush of his orgasm leaving him breathless. Snape released Harry’s cock and grabbed his hips. He began to drill into Harry with force, fucking him hard as he neared his own orgasm. Harry squeezed around him, knowing it made the Death Eater come faster, and it wasn’t long before Snape’s body shifted into the jerky shudders that meant he was close. He leaned forward and wrapped one arm around Harry, hugging him tightly as he emptied himself inside. 

It startled Harry. Snape had never hugged him before, not even when they pressed together after sex. The Death Eater’s breaths were harsh in Harry’s ear as he panted, still hugging Harry tightly, holding them both up with one strong arm. Finally, he released his grip and carefully removed himself from Harry’s arse. 

Harry scooted to the side so Snape could lie down on the bed beside him. The Death Eater did so and Harry pressed into his side, putting his head tentatively on Snape’s chest. Snape wasn’t as stiff as he normally was when Harry first pressed against him. Harry guessed the Death Eater had had a particularly good orgasm. He seemed to like it best when Harry was on his hands and knees. 

Harry had hated that position so much in the beginning, but he was starting to like it now. It was certainly better than being chained up and he was glad Snape didn’t do that to him anymore. He liked the fact that he had the biggest range of movement when he was on his knees. He could move forward to lie flat on his stomach or push back to rise up to a kneeling position. Anything that allowed him to control the sex, even something as simple as the position, made him happy. 

Plus, Snape sometimes held him in that position. Hugs didn’t make his whole body tingle like they had in the beginning, and Harry certainly didn’t want hugs when he wasn’t in bed with Snape. If Snape had tried to hug him any other time, he would’ve punched him as hard as he could. Hugging during sex was different though. There were a lot of things Harry tolerated and even enjoyed during and immediately after sex that he would ordinarily hate, like kissing. They hadn’t kissed for a while now, and Harry felt heat rush to his face as he remembered how good it had been when they did it before, but he certainly wasn’t going to request it. Kissing was a lot more intimate than blowjobs for some reason. He’d ask for a blowjob but not a kiss. 

Finally, Snape pushed Harry away and cast the cleaning spells. He dressed, his back to Harry as he pulled on his clothes. Snape’s refusal to acknowledge his enjoyment infuriated Harry. Snape was trying to pretend he was straight and denying his gay behaviour by pretending that he didn’t enjoy having sex with Harry. Harry wasn’t going to let him get away with it. He didn’t want to have gay sex and especially not gay sex with Snape, but he had to admit that it could be pleasurable. If he could admit that, and he was the woman most of the time, then Snape could admit it too. Snape left in a hurry as soon as he finished dressing. 

Harry pulled the sheets over himself. Snape hadn’t said what blowjob ratio he had agreed to, but Harry hoped that Snape would give him two more before he had to give one. It didn’t look too hard, just like trying to eat a really large sandwich. Snape obviously really disliked giving Harry head, and the fact that Harry had managed to make him do it twice made the young wizard quite pleased with himself. Yeah, it was very gay to give another man head, but he was getting several in return for every one he gave, and Snape would never tell anyone or he would have to admit to his own gayness. 

Snape stormed back into the hallway. “Get up, the Dark Lord is here.” 

Harry stared at him as Snape marched in through the bars and grabbed him by the arm. Snape roughly pulled him from the bed, cast the chaining spell, and then began dragging him upstairs. 

Voldemort was here? That was unusual, wasn’t it? Harry’s heart leapt up to his throat as he nervously followed Snape up the stairs. Voldemort was standing in the throne room with Avery, who had a triumphant look on his face. Oh no, had the Death Eater managed to get a second chance to torture Harry? 

Snape pushed Harry to his knees in the centre of the throne room and bowed low to Voldemort. “My lord?” 

“Has there been any progress with the potion since we last spoke?” Voldemort asked in a cool tone that sent shivers down Harry’s spine. 

“No, my Lord, I-“ 

“Crucio!” Voldemort cast on Snape and Harry flinched and tried to look as small as possible. He stared at the floor, unable to watch Snape being hurt. If Voldemort was this angry at Snape, then he would treat him even worse. “I think you are enjoying the slave too much, Severus. I am disappointed with your lack of progress. Perhaps you need to be motivated again. You will come with me and complete a different task. Avery will be in charge of the slave for a week.” 

No! NO! Harry wanted to scream but forced himself to bite his tongue. If he insisted on Snape remaining with him, Voldemort would remove Snape longer just to torture him. He was sinking into blackness and barely heard Snape say, “Yes, my Lord.” 

Snape got to his feet and Harry watched with panic and pain as Snape followed Voldemort out the door. Harry wanted to run after him and beg him to do anything but leave him with Avery. He would give him blowjobs every day, he would clean the entire house whenever Snape requested it, he would do anything, anything Snape wanted as long as Snape did not leave him with Avery. 

Snape did not look back once, and when the door shut behind his retreating form, Harry could do nothing but stare at the door in shock. This had to be a dream. This couldn’t be happening to him. He should’ve made sure Snape enjoyed having sex with him so he wouldn’t have left like that. So he wouldn’t have been abandoned without a fight, without even a single backward glance. He was drowning and the pain he felt in his chest at Snape’s rejection seemed to tear him apart. He barely noticed when Avery’s fingers curled around his upper arm and he was pulled to his feet. 

“You’re mine now.”

[[As always, please read and review!]] 


	27. Chapter 27

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears.... 

* * *

Harry numbly stumbled after Avery as the Death Eater dragged him down to his cell. Avery grabbed him by the hair and shoved him against the wall, his body pressing into Harry’s back.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week after I’m finished with you,” Avery promised. He stepped back from Harry and ran his left hand down Harry’s spine in a perverse caress. When he reached Harry’s arse, he shoved a finger inside. 

Harry hissed in pain and tried to pull away. Even though Snape had just fucked him, Avery was so rough, it hurt. 

“Still tight. I’ll change that.” Avery licked Harry’s cheek before throwing him onto the bed. 

Avery licked his lips and began to unzip his pants. Harry stared at him in horror. He’d be stuck with Avery for an entire week. Avery would chain him to the bed and rape him every day. 

Harry wasn’t going to let him. When the Death Eater moved to the edge of the bed, Harry brought up his leg and kicked Avery in the nuts as hard as he could. Avery’s hands flew to his groin and he bent over in pain. 

Harry jumped to his feet and punched the Death Eater in the nose with all the force he could manage. It hurt his knuckles like hell but the sound of cracking bone was music to his ears, and the river of blood that followed was the most beautiful sight Harry had ever seen. 

Avery yanked out his wand and Harry grabbed it out of his hand and threw it away. He slammed his shoulder into Avery, knocking him into the wall. He punched Avery as hard as he could, aiming for the spots where it hurt the most. One good thing about Dudley’s treatment of him was that he knew how to hit someone to cause pain. He had learned to hide those parts from Dudley and offer less delicate sections instead. Avery was pureblood and obviously had never been in a fist fight before. He was too shocked and stunned to do anything but bring up his arms to protect his head. 

It was hard for Harry to punch with his wrists bound together, but he managed to do it. All of his anger flowed towards his fist and the more he punched, the more enraged he became. His vision swam and his heart was a rapid drum that encouraged him to pound his fists into the body before him until it became unrecognizable as human. He quickly forgot about trying to hit Avery in the parts where he could do the most damage as his anger grew sharper and sharper until his whole body felt as though it were on fire. 

_Fuck him_. Fuck all of them. He wasn’t going to be their bitch. He was going to fucking destroy them all. Pay them back for what they did to him. His attacks quickly moved lower and he focused on slamming his fist into Avery’s groin as hard as he could. 

Avery was screaming in Harry’s ear but Harry was too focused on destroying his genitals to care what he was yelling. Hands pushed on his shoulders and he was so off balance that he fell back on the bed. 

“ _Concrito Fetallis_!” Chains appeared, binding Harry’s cuffs to the bed. Harry quickly adjusted himself so that he could attack the Death Eater if he dared approach him again. 

“You little shite. You fucking bitch.” Avery spat blood and stumbled over to his wand. “You’re going to beg for mercy by the time I’m finished with you. I’ll cut off your balls and feed them to you!” He muttered a few spells, healing himself clumsily. 

“I’ll bite off your dick!” Harry snarled. 

“I’ll remove all your teeth!” Avery levelled his wand at Harry. “ _Immobilus_!” 

Harry sagged against the bed as his limbs refused to move anymore. If that bastard tried to touch him, he’d have his revenge. He’d rip off his balls and then kill him. 

Avery stumbled back over, moving between Harry’s legs. He closed his hands around Harry’s throat. “You slag! You will regret ever touching me.” 

“ _STUPEFY_!” Snape yelled. 

Avery slumped over Harry. Snape grabbed the Death Eater and threw him to the floor. He removed the chains and grabbed Harry by the upper arms, pulling him to a sitting position. 

“DID HE RAPE YOU?” Snape demanded. 

Huh? Where did Snape come from? Why was he so angry? His grip on Harry’s forearms hurt and his black eyes were burning with anger. Harry had never seen Snape’s face so wild and it was very unnerving. 

“What?” 

“Did he put his cock inside you?” Snape snarled, looking as though he was going to bite Harry’s head off. 

It was so strange to hear Snape say ‘cock.’ Was this one of those things where Harry did something he wasn’t supposed to do? Was he supposed to play the submissive slave and let Avery rape him? 

“No, I…I…” Harry shook his head. “I’m sorry; I couldn’t let him rape me, so I… I beat the shite out of him.” 

Snape was staring at Harry’s chest, and Harry glanced down to see blood covering his torso. “Oh, it’s not mine. I broke his nose.” 

Snape stared at him. “I thought… I was sure… you aren’t hurt?” 

“No, you’re bruising me more than he did.” 

Snape instantly released Harry. Harry rubbed his upper arms where Snape had tightly gripped him. “You should’ve seen him before he healed himself. I’m pretty sure I cracked a rib or two in addition to his broken nose.” 

“Stupid boy.” There was no malice in Snape’s voice, nor in the hands that fluttered quickly over Harry’s body, checking for injuries. Once Snape was sure Harry had not been hurt, he straightened and his expression changed so suddenly back to his normal cool composure, that it was almost as if he had instantly been replaced by another person. 

Snape stepped away from him and approached the fallen Death Eater. “You must never do that again. The consequences of such an action would be severe.” He floated Avery out of the cell and toward the library. “I will attempt to _Imperio_ him, but it won’t last a week. If you want him gone then you must hurt yourself.” 

Snape wasn’t staying? Harry forced down the stab of disappointment he felt in his chest. “What? What d’you mean? Aren’t you-” 

“The Dark Lord has ordered you to remain unharmed while you are away from his presence,” Snape interrupted. “If Avery hurts you continuously, then the Dark Lord will remove him. You must only hurt yourself when it can be assumed that Avery was responsible for the injury. Get his minor acts to become dangerous ones.” 

Snape approached Harry again and put his hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “I shouldn’t be here. Never let the Dark Lord see this memory. I should go now before he misses my presence. Don’t forget to practise.” He released Harry’s shoulder and hurried from the room. 

Harry washed himself in the sink. He wasn’t sure he was strong enough to spend a week without Snape under the guard of Avery, but if Snape thought he’d be able to, then he must have the capability. 

He hid his clothes under the mattress, knowing that Avery would take them from him if he found them. He crawled into bed and relived beating the crap out of Avery in his head. He hoped he had ruined the bastard’s genitals. It had felt wonderful and he was glowing with pleasure when he suddenly realised that what he had done had probably been very stupid indeed. He had just roughed up the Death Eater who was in charge of him for an entire week. Snape was a powerful wizard, but no one could _Imperio_ another for an entire week. That was impossible. When Avery recovered himself, he would pay Harry back tenfold. Snape was right; Harry really needed to think before he acted. 

The knowledge of what he had done made Harry nervous, but he tried to force it from his mind. He should instead concentrate on finding ways to get Avery to hurt him so that Snape could be returned to him as soon as possible. He assumed that Snape was out there trying to find a way to do the same. He finally managed to fall asleep, hoping that he would have Snape for a prison guard again as soon as possible. 

~ 

Harry was reading his book when Snape walked into his cell followed by Avery and Malfoy. 

“I’m going to California to collect more plants,” Snape informed him casually. “Avery or Malfoy will take over from now on. Which one do you chose?” 

“I don’t want to choose either! I want to stay with you!” Harry pleaded. 

“My bed or his knife.” Avery grinned, showing all his teeth. 

Malfoy opened a large black bag that had all manners of wicked instruments. “I bought these just for you.” 

Harry threw himself on Snape. “Take me with you! Please! I’ll let you whip me and have sex with me everyday!” 

“Okay, but you must wear shoes. You never wear shoes.” Snape frowned at him. 

“You never gave me any…” he protested. 

Snape grabbed his arm and they were suddenly on the back of a Hippogriff flying so high in the air that the earth was a giant beach ball beneath them. They flew down for a landing and Harry shut his eyes at the blinding force of the wind. When he opened them, the Hippogriff had disappeared. White sand dunes rose up around them no matter where Harry looked. “Where are we?” 

“Death Valley.” 

“I hate sand.” Harry saw that he was sinking into it. He struggled to pull himself out of it, but it was hard. “Why are we here Snape?” There was no answer and when he looked around, he didn’t see Snape anymore. 

“Snape?” He turned himself around to try and find a speck of black that meant Snape hadn’t left him. “Snape, where did you go?” It was hard to walk in the sand which kept slipping beneath his feet. He tried to climb the highest sand dune to look around but he slid down it every time he managed to climb halfway up. “SNAPE!” he screamed. “I DON’T KNOW HOW TO GET BACK!” 

The sand whipped up around him and he couldn’t see anything other than darkness. “SNAPE! Please! Help me!” 

He flailed violently in the bed and woke up to discover himself tangled in his blankets. His heart pounding, Harry carefully extracted himself. Not knowing what else to do, he awaited Avery’s arrival with sweaty palms and a dry mouth. 

When the Death Eater finally strode into the hallway, Harry was starving. The Death Eater glared at Harry as if the young wizard was the most disgusting thing he had ever seen. He did not have the look of someone who was _Imperio’d_ and Harry’s heart skipped a beat. 

“You smell. When was the last time you had a bath?” 

“Yesterday,” Harry quickly answered, wanting to stay as far away from Avery as possible. 

“Disgusting,” he spat. “Follow me.” 

Harry reluctantly got to his feet and approached the bars. Avery spelled the chain and opened the bars for Harry to step through. Harry walked as far away from Avery as he could as he headed to the bathroom. He hopped into the tub as soon as he reached the bathroom. Avery spelled on the shower and Harry bit back a yelp as ice cold water cascaded down on him. He grit his teeth and quickly cleaned himself. He didn’t know if Voldemort would feel his coldness but he hoped he did. Once Harry had finished cleaning himself, he pretended to trip over the edge of the tub and smacked his head against the wall. He fell harder than he intended to and sharp pain strummed through his head, making his vision swim for a moment. 

“You idiot!” Avery snarled at him and kicked him in the shin. Harry tried to reach for a towel but Avery kicked his hand away. “Back to your cage, now.” 

Harry got to his feet and stumbled back to his bed. Avery grew impatient with his slow pace and shoved Harry through the bars. Harry did not move to stop the fall, letting his elbow hit the ground. Pain radiated up his arm and he bit his lip as he tried to pretend he hadn’t been hurt. 

Avery tapped the table with his wand and left. Harry pulled himself up to his feet and examined the offerings. On his table was a bowl of cold soup and a piece of mouldy bread. Harry picked off the mould and ate the bread before drinking the soup. He was still hungry when he finished, but he pushed his hunger from his mind. He didn’t care if Avery beat him or starved him as long as he didn’t rape him. 

Harry climbed onto his bed and read _Cosmos_ , with an ear turned to the door in case Avery returned. He wanted to exercise, but he was so hungry and he didn’t know if it would be wise to exercise in a state of hunger. He couldn’t concentrate on the book for very long and returned it to its hiding place under the mattress. 

He wondered what Snape was doing. What sort of task would Voldemort send him on? Harry didn’t want Snape to do bad things, but Voldemort would forgive Snape quicker if the Potions master successfully carried out his work. A wave of guilt washed over Harry. It was selfish of him to hope that whatever evil Snape was doing, he would do it well and return to Harry as quickly as possible. Harry shouldn’t want Snape to commit sins, and it was horrible of Harry to want Snape to succeed at Death Eater work. Especially since this was his fault. Harry had selfishly asked Snape to make sure that Avery wouldn’t have the chance to torture him. Obviously, that had enraged Avery so much that the Death Eater had managed to get himself placed in charge of Harry for an entire week. If Harry hadn’t requested to have Snape intervene in Death Eater business, then none of this would’ve happened. He had put both of them and their plan at risk. He should’ve been braver and let Avery torture him in the throne room. At least there, Snape would’ve been able to stop Avery from doing anything too horrible to Harry. 

Harry clenched his pillow tightly. He felt so conflicted. If Snape were good, Harry wouldn’t have to worry about being killed so that Snape could become the next Dark Lord. On the other hand, if Snape were evil, Snape would do exactly what needed to be done in order to gain Voldemort’s favour again and be repositioned as Harry’s prison guard. Was this what Snape meant when he spoke of ‘a necessary evil’? Harry doubted he could kill an innocent person even if he needed to in order to defeat Voldemort. He always had a strong sense of morals, and even now, after all that had happened, he still couldn’t kill anyone who didn’t deserve it. 

Then again, however much it pained him to admit it, a part of him hoped that Snape could do what was necessary, even if that meant killing innocent people. Had being around Snape so much turned him evil too? Was some evil necessary in order for good to triumph? Had he become twisted or practical? Harry just didn’t know what to think. 

Avery finally returned, slamming the library door as he entered. 

“Put your hands between the bars!” He jabbed his wand at the bedposts at the end of the bed from where Harry was currently sitting. 

Harry hesitated, not sure what to do. 

“ _Concrito Fetallis_!” Harry’s hands were pulled apart and chained to the bedposts against the back wall of the cell. 

“I gave you an order, slave!” Avery growled, his face filled with rage. He pointed his wand at Harry. “ _Volespiro_!” 

Harry could no longer breathe. He tried gasping for breath, but his lungs refused to move. 

Avery stepped through the bars. “I can think of plenty of ways to torture you while the Dark Lord is away.” 

Just when Harry’s lungs began to burn, Avery released him and he gasped for breath. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” Avery demanded. 

Ah, so Voldemort had chewed out the Death Eater. Harry kept the grin off his face. “You were there, I thought you knew.” 

Avery cut off Harry’s breath again, holding it for longer this time. 

As Harry panted when his breath was returned, Avery released the bonds. “Get in the cupboard. Crawl!” 

Harry thought of telling him to fuck off, but he was afraid that whatever Snape had done wouldn’t remain stable if he antagonised the Death Eater too much, so he climbed down off the bed and got on his hands and knees. He crawled out through the bars and to the cupboard. Avery kicked him in and slammed the door shut. 

Harry curled up in the dark and tried to ignore his growling stomach. He could get through this. Snape and Mcnair had both locked him in the cupboard for days at a time. 

He forced himself to try to fall asleep but couldn’t remain there for long. When Harry realised that, even in the complete darkness, he wasn’t going to be able to sleep, he practised jumping to his feet quickly. It was difficult to do in the small cell and it made him unbearably hungry, so he stopped before long. 

After what seemed like forever, Avery opened the flap at the bottom and pushed in a bowl of cold soup. Harry drank it quickly and curled up on the floor. The good thing about being starved was that he didn’t have to use the toilet. He had no bucket, and he hated the idea of what he’d have to do if he needed to go while locked in the cupboard. 

His thoughts turned back to Snape. He needed to come up with ways to get Snape restored as his guard besides just hurting himself. He couldn’t very well make it look like Avery was hurting him if he was to be locked in a cupboard the entire time. Furthermore, whatever Snape had done to Avery appeared to be working, but Harry did not trust it to last long. He wanted to be well away from Avery by the time the Death Eater recovered his true self. 

Harry thought of the wonderful meals Snape fixed him, the training they did together, the books Snape gave him, and the conversations they had together. He would welcome Snape’s lectures as long as he had someone to talk to. Hell, Snape could make fun of him all day as long as he trained him and talked to him. Harry had no idea how he had managed to stand the beginning of his imprisonment when Snape had been a sadistic bastard instead of a partial ally. He wouldn’t have been able to hold himself together if Snape had remained evil. 

He felt guilty once he realised he had immediately focused on Snape and how much he missed him, instead of thinking of Ron and Hermione or Ginny. Of course, if given the chance, he’d pick Ron and Hermione over Snape in a second, and the intensity of his positive feelings towards his best friends was considerably greater than his positive feelings for Snape. 

But…Ron and Hermione weren’t likely to come and save him from Avery. He figured that they were busy focusing on the Horcruxes now. Snape had the ability and would probably come back to protect him. And because of that, Harry decided to focus on Snape and plan ways to have the Potions master returned to him. 

Harry was still planning when Avery returned and pushed more soup through the flap. 

“Please! I need to use the toilet!” Harry quickly requested. Avery opened the door, sneering at him with contempt. 

“Crawl,” he snarled. 

Harry crawled into the bathroom obediently. He wanted nothing more than to beat Avery into a pulp again, but that wouldn’t bring Snape back. Harry needed Avery to hurt him but not too much. He remembered how Snape had warned him that if he pushed a Death Eater too far, he could be accidentally killed by one. He also didn’t want Avery to rape him and he was afraid that if he made Avery too angry, the Death Eater might remember his former self and attack Harry. 

After Harry had used the toilet, he washed his hands and began to walk back to his cell. 

“On your knees!” Avery growled. 

Harry bent down. “Are you doing this so that you seem taller?” Avery was only a few inches taller than Harry and, as a short man himself, Harry knew how sensitive many smaller guys were about their height. 

Avery kicked him in the ribs. Harry held himself firm and leaned into the kick so that it would hurt as much as possible. 

“That’ll be the last time I let you out!” He grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged him back to the cupboard. He picked up the bowl of soup and dumped it over Harry’s head before slamming the door shut. 

The soup had been chicken with rice and Harry ate the bits of it he could find and licked as much broth off his skin as he could reach. He hoped that the pains from his hungry stomach were bothering Voldemort. He curled up and attempted to rest. 

~ 

Soup was offered again many hours later. Harry drank it quickly, grimacing as it seemed to only intensify his hunger. Even at their worst, the Dursleys were not nearly this bad. It worried Harry. How would he be able to train if his body was eating itself? 

He felt miserable. Without the nest Snape had made for him, the floor of the cupboard was unbearably hard and Harry was stiff all over. The soup he hadn’t been able to lick off of himself made him all sticky, and when he touched his hair, he could tell it was stiff. When Avery opened the door of the cell after what seemed like forever, the bright lights hurt Harry’s eyes. 

“Crawl back to your cage,” Avery ordered and fear stabbed through Harry. How long had it been since Snape had done whatever he did to Avery? 

Harry crawled out. “I need to use the toilet.” 

“On your bed.” Avery cut off Harry’s breath. “Or you won’t breathe.” 

Harry let himself fall against the wall when his breath was cut off. He righted himself and hurried over to his bed, climbing on top of it just before his vision turned black. Avery released him and he gulped down air desperately. 

“ _Concretio Ferratilis_!” Avery chained him to the bed and then stepped into the cell. Harry moved as far away from Avery as he possibly could on the bed. He thought about how Snape had told him to play the submissive slave, but he didn’t think he could do it. 

Avery walked over to the table and spelled food on the surface. He left in an angry sweep of his robes, unchaining Harry before he disappeared from sight. 

“Bloody hell...” Harry breathed, falling back against the bed in relief. He had been so sure he was going to be raped. Snape must be a very powerful wizard to be able to compel a wizard to act against his nature for days at a time. It was a shame Snape wasn’t going to train him anymore once he defeated Voldemort. He had the feeling that if Snape continued to teach him, he could become quite powerful. 

Once Harry had calmed down enough to eat his meal, he climbed out of bed and approached the table. He was given cold soup but also a block of cheese, two apples, and a packet of crackers. He ate everything but the apples, hiding them in the corner of his bed under bunched blankets. He ran through his morning routine, glad to be able to brush his teeth again. It was difficult to try to wash the dried soup out of his hair, but he did his best and once he felt clean again, he exercised until he was sweaty. 

By the time he had finished his second bath, he felt okay again. There had been a huge weight in his chest ever since he had learned he had been given to Avery and while it wasn’t gone, it didn’t press on him as it had before. He ate one of his apples, flushing the stem and seeds down the toilet when he was finished. 

He climbed on his bed and finished _Cosmos_. He had just returned it to the mattress when Avery stepped into the hallway and chained him to the bed. He cut off the young wizard’s breath and watched with glee as Harry struggled on the bed in his attempts to force his lungs to move again. He released the spell long enough for Harry to gasp for breath and then recast it as he stepped into the cell. Harry figured out what he was doing so that when Avery released the spell for a second time, he took as much air into his lungs as he could and moved to the head of the bed. Avery recast the spell after conjuring food on the table and held it there until he left the cell. Harry struggled, smacking his head against the wall as he did so. Avery immediately removed all the magic he had cast at once and Harry breathed deeply until he no longer felt dizzy and faint. He was disappointed that he hadn’t managed to hurt himself more this time. Next time he would get into a position where he could knock his head against the wall right from the start. 

Once the Death Eater left, Harry approached the table eagerly. Obviously, Voldemort had yelled at Avery for this treatment of Harry. Harry never thought he’d be relying on Voldemort to protect him from a Death Eater, or, in the case of Snape, a Death Eater to protect him from Voldemort. The world seemed to have turned on its head. 

Harry ate quickly. The meal, a repeat of the last, was enough to fill him. He exercised until he was tired and then took a bath. He had gotten quite adept at cleaning himself with a sink and a flannel and didn’t spill nearly as much water on the floor as he used to. Once he was dry, he returned to his bed and read the art book. 

The nude bodies aroused him, and he was about to set it to the side to prevent himself from growing harder when he realised that he had never had a more perfect time to masturbate. Snape rarely gave him hours alone, and Harry hadn’t had a proper wank in forever. Harry lay down on the bed with his head towards the door so he’d hear Avery’s approach. The Death Eater was far noisier than Snape and could usually be heard even on the stairs. 

Harry had always gone straight for the prize in his masturbation sessions but he decided to take his time and enjoy himself. Snape had shown him that it felt good to play with other parts of his body besides his dick. 

He closed his eyes and stroked his nipples with his fingers. It felt good, but not nearly as wonderful as when Snape did it, even when he replicated the motions Snape used. He imagined Snape between his legs, sucking him off, as he continued to play with the small nubs. The mental image made him very hard and he reached down with one hand to grip his cock, pretending that his fingers were Snape’s mouth. Snape would just take the tip in at first, only moving the foreskin as he bobbed his head. 

Fuck, it felt so hot as if Snape were really there, sucking on his cock. Snape would touch that spot between Harry’s balls. Harry spread his legs and moved his other hand down to rub himself as Snape had done. His cock was dripping with precum and everything he was doing was driving him wild, but he’d be desperate with need if Snape had been doing those things to him. He moved the fingers that were rubbing behind his nuts down to stroke his puckered entrance. It felt amazing whenever Snape pressed against that spot inside. Snape had said that only men had that spot, so it wouldn’t make him a woman if he masturbated while fingering himself. Harry moved his fingers to his mouth and sucked on the digits to get them wet as he slowed the hand on his prick. 

Once his fingers were wet, he returned them to his bum and pushed his middle finger through the tight ring of muscle. He felt his body clench around the digit. It felt strange; he was so incredibly tight around his finger he wondered how he ever had managed to fit Snape’s cock inside him. He tried pushing the finger up further but it didn’t seem to want to go until he pushed back against it from inside. It moved more easily and once he had it all the way inside him, he squeezed his muscles around it. 

He pulled his finger out and pushed it back in again, feeling his anus cling to the digit. He added a second finger and tried to find his prostate. He wasn’t sure what he was even looking for and pressed randomly over his walls. He couldn’t get it to work right. Pressing in and up towards his stomach a certain way gave him a jolt but it was nothing like what Snape managed to do. Did Snape’s long fingers help or was the older wizard just more experienced even though he claimed to be straight? 

Harry fucked himself with his fingers as he curled his other hand around his prick and imagined that Snape was blowing him. Snape would suck so hard, his tongue working on the tip of Harry’s penis as he bobbed his head up and down the shaft. 

“Fuck!” His balls were tight between his legs and he was going to blow soon. He removed his fingers from his arse so he could fuck his right hand with full force. He jerked himself faster, biting back a cry as he spurted, covering the palm of his left hand with his semen. 

He rested until he caught his breath and then cupped his seed to his stomach as he made his way to the toilet. He cleaned himself off and returned to his bed. 

It wasn’t nearly as good as sex. His orgasms during sex seemed to drain his entire body of fluids and sometimes he came so hard that he couldn’t move afterwards. If gay sex made him orgasm like that and he wasn’t gay then straight sex must be mind blowingly fantastic. 

If he was able to be with Ginny before the final battle he would have to have sex with her. Sex orgasms led to a feeling of intense calm and satisfaction and would clean his mind and ease his nerves before he went to face Voldemort. Even his masturbation left him feeling better than he had since Snape left. 

Harry curled up in a ball and fell asleep easily. 

~ 

He woke feeling fairly refreshed considering his situation. He picked up Cosmos and reread his favourite parts. He was looking at pictures of Nebulas when he heard Avery walk down the stairs. Harry hid the book and moved off the bed to stand at the sink and brush his teeth. 

“Get on the bed,” Avery ordered. 

Harry continued brushing his teeth. 

“ _Volespiro_!” Avery hit him with the suffocating spell and Harry spit out the toothpaste as he clutched the edge of the sink. 

Avery finally released the spell, and Harry allowed himself to fall to the floor, knocking his head against the sink. 

“Are you stupid?!” Avery shouted as he stormed into the cell. 

“I’m not doing it on purpose!” Harry lied. 

Avery grabbed Harry by the upper arm and dragged him to the bed. He threw Harry down on it and grabbed the young wizard’s hands, forcing them up above his head. He cast the chaining spell but kept his hands on Harry’s arms, pinning them in place. 

Oh no, was the Death Eater starting to return to his normal self? Harry went still, remembering how Avery had told him that he was turned on by Harry’s struggling. He sneaked a glance up at Avery and didn’t like the glint he thought he saw in Avery’s eye. Snape’s spell was finally wearing off. 

Luckily, Avery shook himself and stepped away from Harry to spell food on the table. Harry was very grateful Snape was such a powerful wizard. How many days had it been since Snape had left him? Harry guessed four had passed and yet Avery was still being affected by whatever Snape had done. If Snape wanted to be the next Dark Lord, he had the raw talent. Still, Avery was beginning to recover himself. If Snape didn’t return soon, Harry was going to get raped. 

After Avery had freed him and left, Harry rubbed the sore spot on his head where he had hit himself. He didn’t know what to do. He needed to push the Death Eater to get Snape returned but he was afraid that doing so would make Avery rape him. Voldemort had said that Snape’s punishment would last a week. Harry had at least three more days to go. He wasn’t sure he could last another. If Avery was starting to recover himself he’d be completely restored in a few more days. Harry swallowed hard. Snape had better being doing everything he could to return to him. 

Harry ate his meagre breakfast without paying attention to what he was putting in his mouth. He would try his best to get hurt every time Avery approached him from now on. He would just make sure that Avery tortured him from a distance. His mind made up, Harry began to run through his exercises to try to take his mind of the danger facing him. 

When Avery didn’t return to the cell for many hours, Harry grew nervous. Finally, Avery arrived to bring him lunch. Harry let himself fall out of bed when Avery took away his breath. He slammed his nose into the floor but then pretended that he hadn’t been harmed at all. Avery left and Harry discreetly wiped away the blood. 

Harry was still eating lunch when Avery stormed back in. “Put your wrists together,” he snarled. 

Harry hesitantly did. 

Avery spelled the chain. “Come, follow me,” he ordered and opened the bars. 

Harry did so slowly. Avery grabbed him by the chain and yanked him forward. Harry tried to knock himself against the bars but Avery held him firmly. 

“Move, you worthless piece of shite!” He grabbed Harry by the hair and dragged him towards the library. Harry stumbled after him. Had Voldemort arrived? Harry didn’t dare hope so he held down his feelings but quickly stepped into pace beside Avery. 

Avery pulled Harry into the throne room and threw him on the floor. Harry glanced up to see Voldemort was standing in the centre of the dais with hateful look twisting his features. On his right, Snape stood, his face turned towards Harry, without any expression at all. 


	28. Chapter 28

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....  


* * *

[[I'm glad to have time to write my story. I hope you like this chapter!]]

Harry immediately bent his head to stare at the floor. He was afraid that if he looked up at Snape, he’d break into a smile or show some other expression of relief and happiness. He tried to remind himself that he wasn’t out of the woods yet and that Snape could just be here to watch him be tortured, but in his heart he had the feeling he was about to be reunited with Snape.

“Avery, I am most displeased.” Voldemort’s voice filled the room, and the Death Eater beside Harry trembled in fear. 

“My Lord, I swear I didn’t touch him after you spoke to me last!” 

“And yet I felt his pain. _Crucio_!” 

Avery screamed and flailed while Harry kept his forehead to the floor, hoping he wouldn’t be next. 

“Severus, give me a show.” 

“I will fetch my whip, my Lord,” Snape said deferentially. 

“No, I want to see you rape him,” ordered Voldemort. 

“Yes, my Lord.” Snape stepped over to Harry, who remained in his spot on the floor. When Snape took him by the arm, he allowed Snape to lead him to the transfigured mattress. If Snape was given a favour like this, then that probably meant that he was back in Voldemort’s good graces. 

Harry was unsure how to act as Snape positioned him on his hands and knees. Voldemort seemed to like it the first time when he had struggled and cried, but Harry had enjoyed it in most of the memories Snape showed him. He couldn’t like it in front of Voldemort, but if he protested a lot, it would look suspicious. Besides, Snape had asked Harry to pretend as though he were completely cowed in front of Voldemort. Harry settled on looking embarrassed and a bit scared. He filled his mind with the memory of his first rape as he stared at Voldemort’s lower robes. 

Snape cast the spells and then pressed a finger into Harry, going in just a bit before he pushed it all the way in. With the lube and Snape’s slower pace, it didn’t hurt at all. Harry was shocked at Snape’s daring. Didn’t Voldemort want to see Harry hurt? Harry hoped the Potions master knew what he was doing. He didn’t want Snape taken away from him so soon after he had been restored as Harry’s guard. 

Snape added a second finger, fucking Harry with them slowly. Thankfully, he kept his fingers curled towards Harry’s spine rather than towards that spot. However, Harry’s body remembered what fingers usually meant and began to harden in anticipation of orgasm despite himself. He was very glad when Snape removed the fingers and slowly shoved his cock inside. 

Harry whimpered in fake pain as he tried to discretely relax himself and push back against Snape to help ease the older wizard in. It burned a little bit, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Once Snape had seated himself completely, he began to fuck Harry, moving slow but deep with each stroke. Harry whimpered lightly, not sure how long to carry on pretending to be in pain before Voldemort became suspicious. He kept a look of humiliation mixed with pain on his face, and when Voldemort entered his mind, he had plenty of memories to show him. 

Harry was concentrating so much on putting on a good show for Voldemort that he almost didn’t notice Snape was having trouble. Snape’s cock wasn’t as thick as it normally was, and it began to soften a bit more as the act went on rather than growing harder. He began to thrust faster, but Harry could tell he was still far from orgasm. 

Shite. If Snape didn’t perform properly, Voldemort would get angry at him and take him away from Harry again. Harry shifted himself so Snape could go in deeper and began to give little moans of pleasure rather than pain to try and encourage the older wizard. He squeezed his arse as tight as he could and was delighted when Snape began to fully harden. If he had to, he would give Snape head in front of Voldemort. Luckily, squeezing seemed to be enough, and before long, Snape had pulled out and spurted all over Harry’s back. Harry risked a glance up at Voldemort and saw the Dark Lord’s eyes shining in satisfaction. He curled up on the mattress, pushing his embarrassment and shame to the forefront of his mind. 

“Do not disappoint me as Avery has,” Voldemort commanded. m 

“I won’t, my Lord.” Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Snape bend in a low bow. 

“See that you don’t.” Voldemort swept out of the room with Avery trailing nervously behind him. 

Snape cast cleaning spells over Harry, who remained in his position of humiliation until he was sure the door was fully closed. He shifted and grinned up at Snape who was reaching down to take him by the arm, his face still a carefully controlled mask. Harry sat up and allowed Snape to pull him to his feet and lead him back to his cell. 

“It worked. I had to throw myself on the floor a few times, but every time I got hurt, he was there. So you must be in Voldemort’s favour again, right? Since you got to hurt me again. I bet Avery is furious. He deserves it, the bastard.” 

Snape pushed Harry onto his bed. “That was punishment,” he informed the young wizard through gritted teeth. He pulled out a painkiller, but Harry shook his head. 

“I don’t need it. You didn’t hurt me.” 

Snape turned and started to head out through the bars. Harry grabbed onto the back of his robes. “Wait! I haven’t seen you for days!” 

“We can speak in the morning.” Snape pulled his robes out of Harry’s grip. 

Harry was crushed. Didn’t Snape miss him? He looked down in dejection and noticed dark smudges on his hands. 

“You’re bleeding!” He jumped off the bed and clutched Snape’s robes again. 

“Of course I am, you idiot,” Snape ground out through gritted teeth. “Now release me so I can go tend to my wounds.” 

“Let me help you!” Harry insisted. 

Snape stared at him in surprise. 

“You’re always healing me,” Harry explained. “I can’t do magic, but I can put lotions on the cuts and bandage you. Please, this is sort of my fault.” 

“Wait here.” Snape left the cell in a cloud of black, and Harry waited by the bars for him. After several minutes had passed, Harry began to suspect that Snape had pretended that he would let Harry heal him just to get out of Harry’s clutches and wouldn’t be returning. He was about to bang his cuffs against the bars in anger when Snape re-entered the hallway. 

Snape stepped through the bars and placed a black bag on the table. Harry approached curiously. 

“First, wash your hands,” instructed Snape as he began to undress. 

Harry hurried over to the sink and used a lot of soap. Once he was sure he was clean, he turned around and almost gasped in shock at what he saw. 

A huge gash ran down Snape’s back, cutting him open from the left of his neck to just above the waistband of his trousers. It was almost as wide as Harry’s hand in the middle. He had a lot of other cuts and bruises that looked as if they had been healed recently, but the gash was the only one that was bleeding. It had obviously started to heal but had been torn open again. Probably when he was having sex with Harry, Harry realised. 

“While you are beside the sink, wet your towel. You will need to first clean the wound.” Snape conjured a bowl and filled it with water from his wand. His tone was as cool and even as ever, as if he wasn’t dripping blood onto the floor. 

Harry hurriedly did as he asked. “Will I need to sew it up?” He rinsed the cloth and approached Snape cautiously. 

“It is wide rather than deep.” Snape took out various potions as Harry began to gingerly clean Snape’s back with the cloth. 

“How did you get hurt?” Harry asked, although part of him didn’t want to know. 

“The Order,” answered Snape shortly. 

“Who?” 

Snape did not answer. Harry carefully worked his way to the end of the wound. 

“Did you kill any of them?” He asked as he finally placed the bloodied towel to the side. 

“No,” Snape answered shortly, and then pointed at a tapered vial. “Smear this over the wound to guard it from infections.” 

“That’s good.” Harry picked it up and carefully applied the runny lotion to every inch of the wound. “I should give you a note that you can show them if they try to attack you again. It will say ‘Don’t hurt Snape; he’s helping me -Harry Potter.’ And then they will leave you alone.” 

Snape shook his head. “They’d just think I brainwashed you.” 

“Why don’t you tell them that you are working with me?” 

“And risk being revealed when they are captured and interrogated?” 

Harry knelt down to rub the lotion into the bottom of the wound. Being so close to Snape was making his needy organ revive again and he pushed his arousal from his mind. Snape was in no condition to have sex with him. It was amazing the man had been able to maintain an erection with all this blood loss! Was that what Snape meant about it being punishment? 

“Is he still angry at you? Why was it a punishment?” Harry stood and set the vial on the table. Snape handed him a jar. 

“Now rub this paste over every inch,” he ordered. “He was testing my loyalty. I was to assume that Avery had infected you.” 

“He didn’t, you know.” Harry unscrewed the jar and began to cover the wound in the thick paste, which smelled of hospital rooms. “He was cruel at the beginning but he didn’t touch me except to hurt me. What did you do to him?” 

“I convinced him that he found male bodies revolting. You are very lucky I have become decently skilled in mediwizadry during my care for you,” Snape chided him. 

Harry chuckled, refusing to be contrite, now that the danger had passed. “He deserved it.” 

“That he did. However, I know you didn’t think before you did that.” 

“I thought enough,” Harry retorted. He wasn’t going to allow Snape to browbeat him over something he felt perfectly justified doing. “So his memory of when I beat him up is gone?” 

“As I said earlier, memories can not be erased. I severed the synapses between the neurons responsible for that specific memory. Only someone who knows where to look will be able to find the location of the damage, much less reconnect the neurons,” Snape explained. 

Harry finished with the jar and set it on the edge of the table. He wiped his fingers off on the cloth and picked up the roll of bandages. “What are you going to do? Voldemort wants you to kill me with that potion you are making. How will you stay here as my guard unless you do as he asks?” 

“Let me worry about that.” 

“I don’t think what you did will work a second time. Towards the end he started to get that look in his eye again. You have to stay in his favour.” 

Snape stood so Harry could easily bandage his lower torso. “Focus on your training and I will focus on the tasks I have before me.” 

Harry handed the end of the roll of bandages to Snape and watched as he sealed them with magic. He was itching to try out all the new spells he had observed Snape and the Death Eaters performing around him. He moved to sit on the bed so that he’d be out of the way while Snape redressed. Once Snape had dressed and tucked his package of medical supplies up under his arm, he looked at Harry. 

“Rest now. We will train in the morning.” 

“Okay,” Harry responded and watched him sweep out of the cell. He followed him with his eyes until the older wizard was out of sight. Once he no longer heard Snape’s soft footsteps, he slid under the covers and closed his eyes, trying to will himself to sleep. Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough. 

~

Harry woke up painfully hard. Fuck, he had the feeling that if he didn’t have an orgasm through sex soon, he’d explode. After the nerve-wracking week he’d been through, the relaxation and peace that came from sex orgasms would be a welcome distraction. 

He rolled over onto his back, his newly freed cock springing up in excitement as the cool air brushed against his skin. He glared at it. “Don’t you ever take a break?” As if to taunt him, a fat drop of precum began to gather on the tip. He wasn’t about to beg for sex -- he wanted head but not that bad -- so he attempted to replicate sex as best he could. He rolled over onto his stomach and grabbed his pillow. He moved the pillow down, placing it between his groin and the bed and then pressed down against it with his penis. It felt delightfully soft under his hard organ, and when he rocked slowly against it, it moved his foreskin just enough to give him the pleasure he needed. 

He pushed himself up on his arms, feeling his entire body go rigid as he already became close to losing himself. He fucked his pillow faster, imagining that Snape was sucking him off and that was enough to push him over the edge. “Oh fuck, Snape!” He emptied onto the pillow case, the muscles in his body going from tense to soft. Once his hips had stopped jerking and his penis was finished emptying, he sat back and yanked the pillow case off the pillow. Luckily, the wetness hadn’t seeped through yet. He dropped the pillow case on the bed and stripped it completely of linens, piling them on the floor beside the end of his bed. They needed to be washed anyway. 

Snape arrived before long and wordlessly removed the dirty linens, sending them down the hall before he stepped into Harry’s cell. 

“They needed to be washed. Avery poured chicken soup on me and made me sit on the sheets before I had a chance to clean it off,” Harry explained quickly. 

Snape spelled breakfast for Harry and tea for himself. Harry’s breakfast was composed of milk, yogurt, cereal, mangoes, and orange juice. Hardly the feast he was used to receiving on mornings before trainings. He looked up at Snape, who answered his question before he asked it. 

“Avery did not bother replenishing the kitchen and the order of food I placed this morning will not arrive until later today. Furthermore, the stove is ruined. I will have to have it replaced completely,” Snape explained. 

“Ruined? What did he do?” 

“He attempted to light the gas with magic and applied far more force than necessary. He was lucky he only destroyed the stove and not most of the kitchen,” Snape said contemptuously. 

Harry stared at Snape over his orange juice. “I thought he was just feeding me cold soup because he was being a git, but he probably had no idea how to heat up tinned soup. Most Purebloods would be completely helpless in the Muggle world, wouldn’t they? I mean, I was Muggle-raised, but it wasn’t too difficult for me to adjust to Hogwarts. I bet a Pureblood would go crazy trying to adjust to the Muggle world. That’s because of that lack of science thing, isn’t it?” 

Snape nodded. “Purebloods are taught to act, not to think, and a constant reliance on magic even for mundane tasks causes them to become complacent. After the Dark Lord’s first encounter with you, I heard many Death Eaters say that death or Azkaban was better than living in hiding in the Muggle world.” 

“That’s really pathetic. Being a Muggle isn’t hard at all. If I had to choose between Azkaban and living as a Muggle, I’d definitely go straight to the Muggle world! It would be difficult, mostly because it looks like I dropped out of school at eleven, and all my money is at Gringrotts, but I’m sure I could find a way to live comfortably. If Hermione was helping me, I’d have no trouble at all,” said Harry confidently. “What about you?” 

“If I had access to magic, I’d live quite comfortably, I’d imagine. The idea of losing my magic completely is a horrific one, and I prefer not to reflect on what life would be like without it,” Snape admitted. 

“Yeah…” Harry agreed. “I mean, I know I can survive without magic but I wouldn’t like it.” 

“I imagine we would feel as Lucifer felt after being cast out from heaven.” 

“Only worse, since it wasn’t our fault.” Harry suddenly thought of something. “What will you do after Voldemort is defeated?” 

Snape sent away their empty dishes. “I will find somewhere to go.” 

“You won’t stay here?” Harry moved to brush his teeth. “I’ll tell them that you helped me so they can’t do anything against you.” 

“Dumbledore barely kept me out of Azkaban, and I hadn’t publicly murdered a much-loved wizard then.” 

“But he asked you to!” Harry protested. He wasn’t sure he believed the dream, but he hoped it was true. 

“They will not believe me.” Snape shook his head. When he saw Harry open his mouth to speak, he quickly added, “And if you speak up, they will just believe I have Confounded you.” 

“But… can’t they give you Veritaserum or look at your memories?” 

Snape led him up to the practice room. “I can lie under Veritaserum, and Pensieve memories can be manipulated by a skilled wizard. Besides, after what happened to your Godfather, do you honestly believe our justice system is fair?” 

That unsettled Harry. Sirius had been convicted without a trial and spent twelve years in prison before he managed to escape. The same could happen to Snape or worse. What if they gave him the kiss? Would Harry be able to protect Snape from a corrupt justice system? 

Harry effortlessly dodged the projectiles Snape sent at him as he weaved his way around the room. What was the point of being the saviour of the world if he couldn’t protect the people who helped him? But was Snape even helping him? Harry just wasn’t sure. Snape had been so cruel and hateful to Harry throughout his years at Hogwarts and even now he appeared to be helping Harry more for his own gain than because it was the right thing to do. 

Hermione had always told Harry that he should trust Dumbledore’s opinion of Snape, and Hermione was rarely wrong. Harry tried to remember the dream he’d had with Dumbledore more clearly. It hadn’t been like any other dream he’d experienced. What was it exactly that Dumbledore had said? Harry tried to piece the fragments of that memory back together. If he recalled correctly, Dumbledore had told Harry that Snape had been working for him all along and would continue to help Harry. 

If Snape was loyal to Dumbledore, he was playing a very dangerous game. Snape might not even make it to trial if the Order helped Harry take down Voldemort. They would think of him the same as any other Death Eater -- dangerous. Did they know how powerful Snape was? The Potions master really could become the next Dark Lord if he wanted. The people at the Ministry might kill Snape just to prevent another Dark Lord from rising. Harry wasn’t sure that Snape wasn’t planning on becoming a Dark Lord. He could’ve killed Dumbledore on Dumbledore’s orders yet still be an evil person. The idea of Snape as a villain made more sense to Harry than the idea that Snape could be a good guy. Snape didn’t seem like the type who would want to defeat Voldemort out of the goodness of his heart. He had been loyal to Voldemort the first time the Dark Lord rose to power. It was Snape who had told Voldemort about the prophecy and caused the death of Harry’s parents. Harry doubted he felt any guilt about that. If he had, he would’ve been nicer to Harry. 

Harry was still puzzling everything over in his head when Snape stopped the exercise for lunch. Harry lay on the floor and waited for the older wizard to return. He would just play along and pretend that he believed Snape was helping Harry out of the goodness of his own heart. 

Snape sent Harry’s plate to him. “What is on your mind? It is unlike you to be quiet for so long.” 

“D’you plan on having the Order with us when we defeat Voldemort? Will you even be with me?” 

“I hope to be there, but it is possible that you will have to accomplish it on your own,” admitted Snape. “I think the Order would only distract you, and I don’t want you to worry about the safety of your friends when you go before him.” 

“Yeah… I see what you mean. I want to see them before I go against him though. Especially Ginny.” 

“I can not promise you anything,” Snape told him. 

“I know, but could you try maybe? I’d feel a lot more relaxed going before him if I knew they were all safe.” Harry didn’t expect Snape to give him what he wanted, but it didn’t hurt to ask. 

Snape didn’t say anything, and they finished their lunch in silence. 

“Can we do my favourite exercise now?” he requested. 

“May,’ Potter,” Snape corrected. “I think you should practice dodging while bound first since you have yet to completely dodge while your wrists are bound behind your back.” 

Harry groaned but sat up and put his hands together behind his back. “Let’s get this over with.” 

Snape spelled the chain and started the exercise. Harry rolled and twisted on the floor until he managed to get himself up onto his feet. He darted around the room, trying to avoid falling over as he dodged the fast balls. He had improved despite his days without any form of training at all. He was only hit twice by the time Snape stopped for dinner. 

“That’s good enough, right?” He panted as Snape released him. 

“I want you to be able to do it without being hit once,” Snape told him as he led him down to the bathroom. 

“I better be able to do it soon,” Harry muttered. “It’s my least favourite exercise.” 

Snape set the muscle potion on the edge of the tub. “You managed to remain fairly calm during the exercise; normally you work yourself up, which makes you tense.” 

“I hate being tied up,” Harry explained. “At least when my hands are in front of me I have more range of movement. If I did get chained up like that, I’d probably try to move the chain to the front of my body.” 

“Try it, right now,” Snape suggested. 

Harry put his hands behind his back and Snape respelled the chain. Harry lifted his arms up above his head and popped his left shoulder so he could bring his hands down to rest before his stomach. 

Snape stared at him. “Doesn’t that hurt?” He lifted his wand and released the spell. 

“No, I’m double jointed. I just haven’t done it in years, so I wasn’t sure if I still could,” Harry explained as he stepped into the tub. “I can turn my hand in a circle, see?” He put his palm down on the edge of the tub and turned it in a complete circle. 

Snape stared at it in shock. Harry laughed at his expression and lifted his hand to turn on the water. “That didn’t hurt either.” 

Snape moved to take his chair. 

Harry soaped himself off. “I practiced as much as I could while you were gone, but push ups aren’t nearly as much fun as dodging.” 

“Someone has arrived…probably the food I ordered.” Snape stood. “Back to your cage.” 

Harry quickly rinsed himself off and stepped out of the tub, grabbing a towel on his way out. Snape opened the bars for him, and he stepped in, watching as Snape disappeared into the library. 

When several minutes had passed without Snape’s return, Harry began to grow nervous. What was taking so long? It wouldn’t be difficult to check to make sure all the packages were in order. Had Death Eaters arrived? Harry was tempted to bang his cuffs against the bars to summon Snape, but he didn’t want to end up as Death Eater entertainment, so he forced himself to sit on his linenless bed and stare at the bars impatiently. 

When he finally heard Snape’s footsteps in the library, he flew to the bars, and once he was sure the black smudge that entered was Snape, he demanded, “Where have you been?” 

“Despite what you may believe, I can not just summon food out of thin air,” Snape snapped irritably. 

“I know, I know, it’s the ﬁrst of the ﬁve Principal Exceptions to Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transﬁguration,” Harry interrupted. “You were just gone for so long.” 

“It is easier for me to cook on a stove than with magic,” Snape explained as he spelled food on the table. 

Harry dug into his chicken. “When will you get a new stove?” 

“Hopefully tomorrow.” Snape summoned tea for himself. “Realistically, it may be a week before I receive one.” 

“That’s horrible. You should tell Voldemort that hot foods help you brew faster, so he will give you one soon.” 

“If only he were so easy to persuade.” Snape sipped his tea. 

“I didn’t take the muscle potion with me. I’ll probably need to put it on, won’t I?” Harry asked him. 

“I will get it for you.” Snape stood and left. Harry heard him open the door Harry had never been through. Maybe it was just a laundry? Snape had only gone in there when he needed to wash clothes. So why did he keep it secret from Harry? It wasn’t like Harry could hurt himself with a washer or dryer. He was too big to fit himself inside most of them. 

Snape returned with the muscle potion. “Your sheets should be finished soon.” 

“Thanks.” Harry finished his meal and spread his towel out on the floor. He began to rub the lotion into his skin. “Will you help me put it on my back?” 

“Kneel before me,” ordered Snape. Harry walked over and handed him the potion. He had forgotten that Snape’s bandaged back probably prevented him from bending over to rub the lotion in. Snape’s hands moved slowly but massaged him deeply, working out the tension in his back as they rubbed the potion into Harry’s muscles. Harry closed his eyes and leaned back into Snape’s touch. He was getting hard again as Snape’s fingers moved so knowingly over his skin. He thought of those fingers working his cock with finesse, and his demanding organ jumped in agreement. 

He wanted Snape to wank him or suck him off. Either of those possibilities sounded very, very good right now. He wanted a sex orgasm and he didn’t care if he had to take Snape inside him in order to get his cock touched by some part of Snape’s body. 

“We will have to have sex again soon, won’t we?” Harry asked as inconspicuously as possible. “I mean, Voldemort is so demanding, and last night won’t be enough for him. So we should do it soon, shouldn’t we?” 

“We will have to wait for tomorrow, unless you are willing to be on top,” Snape informed him. 

Harry perked up. “Really!?” 

“Literally, on top,” Snape corrected him firmly and stepped over to the sink to wash his hands. 

“Wait…won’t it… go straight in, you know? With gravity…” It was strange to talk about sex with Snape, and he kept his eyes away from him. 

“Don’t be stupid. You did play Quidditch for six years, did you not?” Snape asked with contempt in his voice. 

“Not all six, technically-” 

“Either way, I assume you have some muscles in your thighs,” Snape interrupted. “You should have the strength to control yourself but if you are worried about it, we can wait until tomorrow.” 

If it was a matter of strength then Harry would do it. “No, it’s okay, I’m sure I’m strong enough.” 

“I will go get the sheets.” Snape left the cell and Harry dashed over to the sink and brushed his teeth. A blow job might stress Snape’s back, but he could still get a hand job. And being on top…he would control the sex not Snape. 

Snape returned and fitted the sheets with magic. Harry pulled the clean pillowcase back over his pillow and set it on the head of the bed. He kept his eyes away from Snape’s face as Snape carefully undressed, folding his clothes neatly over the edge of the chair. The older wizard put the jar of lube on the edge of the chair and then sat down on the bed, only the bandages covering his chest. Harry saw that he was half hard, the head of his cock still covered by foreskin. Harry stared at it as he stood by the edge of the bed. 

“Don’t you have to…prepare me first?” 

“Yes, get on the bed on your hands and knees, facing away from me.” 

Harry did so slowly. He had wanted it so badly earlier when it was all an abstract concept, but now that he was here with Snape, he wasn’t so sure. He wanted to have a sex orgasm, but he was going to be fucked without getting head first. He pushed the thoughts from his mind and did as Snape requested, spreading his legs shoulder width apart. 

He felt the cleansing spell rush through him but not the lubrication one. Snape opened the jar and the smell of strawberries made Harry fully harden. He bit his tongue and waited. Snape pushed a finger inside and it didn’t hurt, even without the lube spell. Snape fucked him with it for a few strokes before he added the second. He pushed them down towards Harry’s belly to rub against his prostate with each stroke and Harry was moaning with pleasure despite himself before long. Once Snape deemed him stretched enough, he removed his fingers. 

“Move to the side of the bed.” 

Harry did so, watching as Snape adjusted himself. Snape laid down on his back, his full cock pointing up towards his head. He offered the lube to Harry. 

Harry took it hesitantly. He liked the idea of having control over sex, but the fact that he actually had to do it made him nervous. He couldn’t back down. If he did, Snape might think that he was worried about being too weak to control himself. Harry took a deep breath and dipped his fingers into the jar. He straddled Snape’s thighs and bent down to smear the lube over the other wizard’s cock. It jumped at his touch and Harry stared at it in fascination. 

It was thick and heavy, just like his own penis. Snape’s was longer and darker in colour, despite the fact that the rest of his skin was lighter than Harry’s. It was lightly veiny like Harry’s, not grossly bulging with veins like Avery’s. It curved more than Harry’s, bending up towards Snape’s stomach. Harry gently pulled the foreskin down, revealing the reddened head. Snape wasn’t leaking precum like he was; only a tiny drop was gathered at the top. Harry carefully smeared the lube around the head, drawing a hissed intake of breath from Snape as he did so. After Snape’s entire length was covered in the lube, Harry set the jar to the side. 

He shifted forward on his knees so that his arse was over the base of Snape’s penis. With his right hand, he reached down between his legs and held Snape’s penis upright. Harry used his left to spread his cheeks as he pressed the tip of Snape’s penis against his hole and slowly pushed himself down. With the lube and the stretching, he was loose enough to take Snape in without any pain. He carefully lowered himself down on the thick length, feeling himself stretch and fill as he slowly inched his way down. He had been worried about pain, but he felt nothing but pleasure as he opened for Snape. Once Snape’s massive length had filled him completely, he adjusted his legs to make thrusting easier and began to fuck himself on Snape’s cock. 

It felt so fucking good. He could control how fast he wanted it to be and how deep it would go with each thrust. He rose up so far that it almost fell out of him before pushing down again with all his strength. He looked down at Snape and saw that he was watching his cock disappear up into Harry’s body as the young wizard rode him. Fuck. Harry was so excited; he forgot to pay attention and rose up too far, so that Snape’s cock fell out of him. 

Embarrassed at his clumsiness, Harry quickly stuck it back in and then leaned forward to rest on his hands so he could thrust back against Snape faster. The change in angle hit the spot better and soon he was gasping with pleasure. Snape moved his hand, closing it around Harry’s penis and the young wizard nearly lost it. 

“Oh fuck! I’m going to come, fuck!” He closed his eyes and threw back his head as he fucked himself as hard as he could, thrusting into Snape’s fingers with each forward stroke. He spurted, the taut muscles of his body quivering as he poured all his tension out through his dick. Once his penis had finished emptying, he opened his eyes to see he had sprayed his ejaculate all over Snape. The older wizard looked very displeased as he wiped his face clean. 

“I certainly can not show _that_ to the Dark Lord,” said Snape in an irritated voice. 

Harry had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. He forced himself to try to look contrite. “Um… sorry.” 

“Get me some toilet paper,” Snape ordered and Harry slid off the bed to fetch it for him. He was giddy with glee. He had come all over Snape’s face! He wanted to howl with laughter but he forced himself to keep it down and returned to the bed to give Snape the toilet paper. 

“I’ll help you change the bandages,” he offered as he watched Snape dab ineffectually at the ejaculate splattered over his torso. He had even gotten it in Snape’s hair. 

Finally, Snape gave up and cast Scourgify over himself. He got to his feet and pointed to the wall between the sink and the bed. “Go stand against that wall.” 

Harry figured out what he wanted and walked over to press his chest against the wall and thrust his bum out. Snape approached, pretending that it was the first time he had approached the young wizard. Harry waited patiently as Snape fingered him quickly and then entered him again. Snape’s thrusting felt amazing and Harry knew that if the older wizard didn’t come soon, he’d be fully hard again. He squeezed himself tight around the cock in his arse and soon Snape was hugging him tightly, biting the juncture of his neck and shoulder as he poured himself inside Harry. It was strange to be held so securely but Harry had figured out by now that there was something about orgasms that made people want to be close to others even if they hated them. 

Snape released him shortly and carefully removed himself. Harry slid onto the bed, leaving room for Snape, who joined him. Harry pressed against him, and they caught their breath together, resting in the afterglow. 

God, even though he hadn’t gotten head that was just what he needed. He was relaxed as if he had just slept an entire day, and he had the temporary illusion of being loved. Snape lay with Harry much longer than he normally did, the fingers of his left hand lazily stroking the bumps of Harry’s spine. The cool path of his fingers left traces of electricity in Harry’s skin. Harry normally did not like being casually touched, but there was something about the way Snape stroked him after sex that left him wanting to be pet all over. 

When Snape still remained on the bed several minutes after his orgasm, Harry pushed himself up to look at the older wizard’s face. He had his eyes closed as if he were asleep, and the heavy line between his eyebrows had almost completely disappeared. 

Feeling the weight of Harry’s gaze, Snape opened his eyes and when they shifted to meet Harry’s, he pushed the young wizard off of him and began to dress himself. 

Harry lay back against the bed, watching as Snape buttoned his trousers and stepped into his shoes. When Snape picked up his shirt, Harry sat up. 

“What about your bandages?” 

“If you insist,” said Snape dismissively. He set the shirt back down and stepped out of the room after casting something on his robes. Harry waited until he was out of sight and then launched himself at Snape’s robes with the desire to rifle through his pockets, but he was stopped when his fingers touched an invisible shield that seemed to surround every inch of the fabric. Damn. Snape knew him too well. 

Harry returned to the bed, pretending that he hadn’t tried anything. Snape returned with the jar and a roll of clean bandages. He pressed the jar into Harry’s hand and then ran his wand down his chest. The bandages fell away and disintegrated into ashes. 

Snape sat on the edge of the bed and Harry looked at the wound. It was no longer red and angry but pink and white with crinkled sections across the middle, as if Snape’s skin had been crunched up like paper. 

“That didn’t injure it, did it?” 

“No.” Snape shook his head. “However, that is the last time I am ever letting you be on top.” 

“Hey!” Harry protested as he began to smear the paste over the wound. “I warned you!” 

“ _That_ was not normal.” 

“How d’you know? Been watching a lot of teenagers come?” Harry teased. 

“Of course not!” answered Snape indignantly. “The book said that the average male ejaculate is between one and a half to five millilitres.” 

Harry nearly fell out of the bed. “There are books on sex?” Why had no one told him this? 

“Of course there are,” said Snape contemptuously as he pressed the bandage into Harry’s hand. “There are several on all manners of copulation.” 

“I want to read one,” demanded Harry as he began to bandage Snape’s back. 

“Did you finish _Cosmos_?” 

“Yep, it was my favourite of the books you’ve given me so far…except for certain parts of the art book.” 

“Will I need to buy a new one?” Snape asked with a sigh. 

“Hey!” Harry laughed. “I have better manners than that. I swear I won’t wank on your sex books either. What kinds d’you have? Any with pictures?” 

Snape stood up and sealed off the end of the bandages. “Go to sleep now.” 

“You’re no fun.” Harry complained but pulled on his pyjama bottoms. “Good night.” 

Snape left. [[ As always, please read and review!]] 


	29. Chapter 29

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....  


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[[I'm on vacation, but I thought you might want this. Enjoy!]]

Harry was still sleeping when Snape arrived and attacked him with spells. Harry quickly rolled out of bed and dodged away from them. 

Snape stopped the exercise once he realised he wouldn’t be able to hit the now-awake wizard. “You aren’t as pathetic as you used to be.” 

“I had a good night’s sleep.” Harry took his seat. “I’d like to sleep in the cupboard again tonight.” He wasn’t about to request sex twice in a row, and he thought his training went far more smoothly on days he had been able to sleep peacefully. 

“If you insist,” answered Snape in a voice that suggested he wasn’t sure he believed Harry really wanted to go sleep in the cupboard. 

Snape had cooked a normal breakfast, but it tasted off. The eggs were a bit runny, the toast not perfectly golden, and the sausages a bit overdone. Harry reckoned his oven hadn’t been replaced yet. 

“I will have guests today,” Snape informed him. “I think it would be best for you to remain in your cage and keep quiet. I will give you books to read. If you hear anyone approach while you are reading, you must hide the books and undress.” 

That ruined his day. He was really looking forward to training. “How long will they be here?” 

Snape shook his head. “I don’t know. They should arrive after lunch, so we will have a normal morning training session. I will give you a large lunch, but they should leave before dinner. I will try to discourage them from requesting to see you, but if they do, you must remember to play your part. They aren’t allowed to hurt you while the Dark Lord is away, no matter what they threaten.” 

Harry knew very well he could still be tortured without being physically hurt, so he didn’t think much of Snape’s attempt at reassurance. He would remain in his cell and be as quiet as a mouse. 

“What exercise will we do today?” Harry asked him as he stood up to run through his morning routine. 

Snape sent away their empty dishes. “I want you to demonstrate that you can shift your handcuffs while dodging. If you can, we will no longer practise the exercise where your hands are bound behind your back.” 

“I’m sure I can do it,” Harry told him confidently. 

“We will also try more blindfolded dodging, since you haven’t done that in a while.” 

Harry followed him out of the cell once he was finished getting ready. They walked up to the practice room together, and Snape set up the exercise. Harry put his hands behind his back for Snape to chain, and as soon as Snape started the exercise, he popped his shoulder and began dodging with his hands in front of him. Snape made him do it until he had convinced himself that Harry had mastered the technique. 

Snape returned the furniture to the room in preparation for the second exercise. 

Harry looked at it suspiciously. “I don’t see why the furniture needs to be here if I am just practicing dodging. I think you like to watch me run into things.” 

“While that is amusing,” admitted Snape, “You tend not to waste energy scurrying all over the room if you know the furniture has been replaced. Remember, tight movements.” 

“Yeah, yeah, tight movements.” Harry took the blindfold from Snape and walked to the centre of the room before tying it around his eyes. 

Snape cast spells at him, and he dodged with ease. After several minutes of it, he grew bored. 

“Come on, Snape, you gotta try harder than that!” 

Snape sent several spells at once at him, and Harry yelped as his body tried to go three different ways at once and he ended up on the floor. 

“Try again, Potter.” Snape told him. 

Harry got to his feet. “You didn’t hit me.” 

More spells raced towards him, and Harry ducked behind a bookcase. 

“Stop hiding, Potter,” Snape called from the other side of the room. 

Harry peeked out from under his blindfold now that he knew Snape couldn’t see him cheating. He gauged the situation and then formulated a plan. He replaced the blindfold and weaved his way across the room to hide behind a cabinet. “Try harder!” 

“I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave, but I’ve yet to see any evidence of that. Stop hiding!” Snape ordered. 

Harry was going to get him for that comment. He danced around in the middle of the room for a minute. “Come on, I’m blindfolded!” 

When Snape cast several at him again, he scrambled over to hide behind a couch near Snape. 

“Still scared?” 

Harry didn’t say anything, but remained pressed behind the couch listening to Snape. 

“Don’t make me come and get you,” Snape warned as he began to advance on Harry. 

Harry remained crouched until Snape was exactly where he wanted him to be. He launched himself up over the couch and tackled the Death Eater to the floor. “Gotcha!” 

“This is a lesson in defence, not offence,” Snape informed him grumpily. 

“You just don’t like being beaten,” Harry reminded him smugly. He ripped off his blindfold and found that he was in the same position he had been in the night before. Embarrassed, he quickly scrambled back off of Snape, who sat up stiffly and smoothed out his robes. 

“Oh shite! I didn’t hurt your back, did I? Sorry, I should’ve remembered you were injured. I did think before I did it though. I planned it out. I just didn’t remember because you moved like normal again this morning and-” 

“Shut up, Potter,” Snape interrupted him. “I’m fine. It would take a lot more than an eight stone wizard to injure me.” 

“Hey! I’m not eight stone!” 

“Seven, then.” 

Harry flew at Snape again, but the older wizard had recovered and immediately began sending spells towards him. Harry rolled out of the way and took off towards the other side of the room. Snape got to his feet and followed after him. 

“I won’t let you hide again,” he promised. 

“You’ll try,” Harry challenged, darting around the room. He was faster than Snape and soon figured out how to make Snape really work to hit him with spells. Snape caught onto his game and began sending furniture away rather than giving chase. 

“You cheat!” Harry accused as the table he had darted behind disappeared. 

“My lesson, my rules,” Snape told him. 

“Bring the balls back,” Harry suggested. “I’ll nail your arse!” 

Snape returned all the balls at once, and they all flew towards Harry in a giant cloud of black. Harry squeezed himself under a table and curled in a ball as he was hit all over. It didn’t hurt, and as soon as the onslaught had finished, the balls disappeared. 

“That’s enough for today,” Snape told him, obviously determined to have the last attack. 

“Just you wait,” Harry promised, getting to his feet. “I’m going to get you back for that.” 

“I’d like to see you try,” Snape challenged as he led him down to the bathroom. 

“You may have magic and a wand, but I am quicker and I know how to fist fight,” Harry informed him. 

“You won’t find a wizard who will use fists when magic is available.” 

“Mostly because they can’t. You should’ve been there when I beat the crap out of Avery. He had obviously never been punched in his life. I’ve never been so glad to have Dudley for a cousin.” Harry hopped in the tub and turned on the water. “Will you give me the books to read now?” 

“I will give them to you,” Snape agreed. “But if you stain them I won’t give you another book.” 

“Come on, I’m a teenager but I do have some self-control,” Harry protested. 

“When you return to your cage, I will give them to you.” 

Harry had never taken a faster bath. He was almost out the door when Snape reminded him, “The potion?” 

“Oh yeah.” Harry spread the towel out on the floor and quickly rubbed the lotion in. Sensing Harry’s haste, Snape stepped forward and rubbed the potion into Harry’s back while the younger wizard worked on his legs. Once Harry had finished, he wrapped a towel around his waist, and headed back to his cell. Snape spelled dinner on the table, a roast with vegetables and potatoes, before leaving. 

Snape remained away a suspiciously long time and Harry was worried that the Death Eaters had arrived early. Finally, Snape returned, carrying two books which he placed on the table near Harry. 

Harry eagerly read the titles, “ _The New Joy of Gay Sex_ , _The Gay Kama Sutra_ …I thought you said you weren’t gay?” 

“I didn’t buy them for pleasure reading, you idiot,” said Snape in a tone which suggested that he was considering taking the books back from Harry. 

“Oh,” Harry realised what he meant. “Yeah…thanks.” 

Snape strode out in a dignified cloud of black. 

Harry looked at the cover of the Kama Sutra book. No wonder Snape knew how to have gay sex. After that terrible first time, he’d probably mail ordered the books so he would be able to do it again without hurting Harry. 

Harry hurriedly finished his meal and retired to the bed with the books. He flipped through the Kama Sutra first, boggling at the drawings of the sexual positions. He had no idea there were so many ways to have sex. How many of them would he be able to replicate with Ginny? The pictures of fellatio made him hard, imagining Snape sucking him off in many different ways. There was an entire section on ’69-ing’ that Harry looked at with interest. Giving head wouldn’t be so bad if he got Snape to reciprocate the act at the same time. 

The next section was on ‘frottage,’ which was when two blokes rubbed their dicks together. Maybe he could convince Snape to do that rather than going inside of him. They could have sex and both play the male role. There were a ton of strange sex acts after that. Harry couldn’t imagine how anilingus could be pleasurable for either party, intercrural sex looked painful, fisting looked like torture, and docking was just strange. 

By the time he had finished flipping through the book, he was unbearably hard. He tried to ignore his cock. After all, it seemed really gay to wank to a book about gay sex. On the other hand, would any straight bloke be able to imagine himself being blown without getting hard even if the person who was giving him head also had a penis? Harry didn’t know. 

He put the book to the side. Then again, Snape had warned Harry not to mess up his books which meant that he thought Harry would be aroused by them to the point of masturbation. Snape didn’t think Harry was gay, did he? No, he had said that he assumed that Harry would have sex with Ginny once he had the chance. Maybe it was normal for blokes to get hard while looking at pictures like these. 

Harry read through the _Joy of Gay Sex_ next. It contained techniques and tips for having gay sex. but some of the pictures really turned him off. The men all had huge muscles as if they were body builders and were very hairy. If that was the type of men gay men were attracted to, then he really wasn’t gay. 

The section on bisexuality intrigued him. He hadn’t really understood the concept when Snape had explained it before. The book said that in many cultures, bisexuality was common and often involved older men with adolescent boys. The fact that the boys evidently grew up to take young male lovers for themselves, in addition to wives, made him feel better. If a whole culture of blokes could get buggered and grow up to be mostly straight, then he could too. The book also suggested that sex between men was common in prisons and that people who engaged in such behaviours could not be considered homosexual or even bisexual. He was relieved to know that he could have gay sex in prison and still be straight. 

Harry was starting to understand why Hermione loved books so much. If he had known half of this stuff a month ago, he wouldn’t have freaked out about having sex with Snape. He still would rather be the one figuratively on top, but none of the blokes in either of the books looked like women. In fact, if anything, they looked more masculine than normal men. Harry reckoned that was why the ancient Greeks and Romans thought it was more masculine to be bisexual or gay than heterosexual. 

Harry had just finished the interesting sections of both books when Snape arrived. Harry waited until he stepped through the bars before asking, “Did they leave?” 

“Yes,” Snape nodded, spelling a light dinner on the table. 

“What did they want?” Harry set down the book and slid out of bed. 

Snape just looked at him and summoned tea for himself. 

“Was it something I would be happy over?” Harry pushed. 

“Yes. No more questions,” insisted Snape. “Do you still wish to sleep in the cupboard?” 

“Yeah, it’s nice and dark in there.” Harry picked up his sandwich. “Will we be able to do a full training session tomorrow?” 

“I’m not sure,” Snape admitted. “You haven’t been tortured for a while and many Death Eaters are anxious to be granted the favour as proof of their loyalty and prestige.” 

“You raping me wasn’t enough torture?” Harry demanded to know. 

Snape’s eyebrows headed towards the dark line between them in a measure of intense displeasure. “He was punishing me, not you. It may be enough for him, I do not know. He may arrive tomorrow night or three days from now.” 

“And you have no way of knowing?” 

Snape stood, obviously irritated by Harry’s questioning. “I’m not a mind reader, Potter. If you continue to pester me with questions, then I will lock you in the cupboard until he arrives. Now that you are finished with your dinner, you should sleep.” He strode out of the cell and headed towards the cupboard. Harry quietly finished off his meal. If Snape had known, he’d have told Harry. There was no reason for him to keep his knowledge from the young wizard, and it was unlike Snape to admit to not knowing something, which meant he probably didn’t know when Voldemort was due to arrive. 

Harry was brushing his teeth when Snape returned. He waited by the bars while Harry finished his evening duties and then joined him. 

“Since you don’t know, maybe we should cut it short or train in my cell,” Harry suggested to the older wizard. 

Snape led him down the hall to the open door of the cupboard. “I plan on having shorter sessions until he arrives.” 

“I hope it’s not tomorrow.” Harry was delighted to find that Snape had covered the floor in blankets and pillows again. He crawled in and adjusted the soft coverings until he had made the perfect nest for himself. Snape stayed in the doorway until Harry finished, watching him with the dark line between his eyebrows heavy. 

“If you need to be let out before I arrive to fetch you, bang your cuffs against the posts,” he reminded Harry. 

“I remember,” Harry yawned. “’Night.” 

Snape shut the door and softly walked down the hallway. 

Harry fell asleep quickly and slept peacefully. ~ 

He was still sleeping when Snape opened the door in the morning, waking him from an instantly forgotten dream that had been quite pleasant. 

“Morning already?” he asked, although he didn’t feel very tired at all. 

“Yes, your breakfast is waiting,” Snape informed him. 

Harry crawled out of the cupboard, standing as soon as his feet hit the tiled floor of the hallway. “Mmm, smells good.” 

The two re-entered Harry’s cell together and Harry eagerly dove into his breakfast. 

“You got your oven back, didn’t you?” He asked Snape through a mouthful of toast. 

Snape frowned at the mess Harry was making. “A new one was installed this morning.” 

“Your Muggle-cooked food is so much better than your wizard-cooked food,” Harry informed him. “Guess it shows how magic doesn’t make everything better.” 

Snape moved his eyebrows in agreement as he drank his tea. Harry had gotten so good at reading the Potions master’s expressions without his glasses, he wouldn’t need to look anywhere other than at his eyebrows even when his glasses were returned. 

“Shouldn’t I try everything at least once with my glasses?” Harry asked as he drank his orange juice. 

“Yes, and we will once Malfoy returns them,” Snape answered. 

“Why does he have my glasses?” 

“A few items were brought before the ministry as proof that you had been captured.” 

“How did people take that?” Harry asked hesitantly. 

“There are many who refuse to believe that you are being held prisoner, much to the Dark Lord’s chagrin. A few have apparently given up, but you have many loyal supporters,” Snape informed him. 

Harry smiled at him. “Really? I’m glad… I don’t want people to pin their hopes on me, but I don’t want them to give up either.” 

Snape spelled away their empty dishes. “We will start your lessons soon.” 

Harry hurried over to the sink while Snape left the cell. When Snape finally returned from the laundry room, Harry was waiting impatiently by the bars. 

“The letter for today is ‘S’ again and you will practise dodging in the throne room.” 

“I can’t wait...to start.” Harry followed Snape into the throne room, which had been randomly scattered with furniture. 

Snape began the exercise almost immediately, and Harry wove and dodged as he moved around the room, evaluating which furniture would be best to use to train Snape to always keep a close eye on him. Without pockets, he couldn’t carry balls with him without Snape noticing, so he caught them out of view of Snape, and stuffed them under the couch from which he planned to launch his attack. It was low enough to hold them to prevent them from escaping on their own, but high enough that he could easily remove and launch them in seconds. 

Once he had gathered a sizeable collection, he danced around the room for a bit, pretending that he was just focusing on dodging. When he thought Snape had grown complacent, he ducked behind the couch again, grabbed a ball and then rolled over behind a bookcase, careful to keep the ball in his hand hidden from Snape. 

“Stop hiding.” Snape made the bookcase disappear and Harry lobbed the ball at Snape. The startled Potions master barely managed to step out of the way in time. “What the-? Potter, I told you, you can’t catch spells.” 

“Did you see me catch it? I learned to remove these stupid cuffs,” Harry insisted and darted back behind the couch, selecting another ball. He headed towards the other side of the room, hiding the ball against his side. Once he was there, he launched it across the room at Snape. 

Snape sent it back at him with a quick flick of the wand. “Pathetic.” 

Harry darted back over to the other side of the room. “I could say the same to you. How many times have you hit me today? Zero.” 

Snape almost hit Harry with his next volley of spells, and Harry dashed over to hide behind his home base again. 

“If you spent less of your time hiding behind furniture I can assure you, the number would be-” 

Harry jumped up, four balls tucked in his left arm, and threw them all at Snape as fast and hard as he could. Snape sent them back again with flicks of his wand, and Harry barely managed to duck out of the way in time. 

“I’m going to get you for that,” Harry promised as he gathered up more balls. 

“Try.” Snape removed the couch. “And use ‘S’ words.” 

“Cheating Slytherin!” Harry held the balls tightly to his chest as he rolled to hide behind a cabinet. “Get out here and fight like a man, Snape!” 

“Says the boy who is in hiding!” retorted Snape as he sent the cabinet away with a flick of his wand. Harry threw all the balls he had at Snape while he weaved and ducked his way to his next hiding place behind a thick armchair. 

Snape sent a spell under the legs of the armchair, striking Harry in the ankle. 

“That was dirty!” Harry protested. 

“’S’ words,” prompted Snape. 

“You’re such a Slytherin!” 

“Why thank you.” Snape sent away more furniture and began casting spell after spell at Harry while the balls continued to try to smack into him. 

Harry didn’t have time to try to plan an attack; he was too busy dodging all the projectiles. It was almost too much for him and he was about to ask Snape for a break, when he realized he was dodging at a level beyond which he had ever managed to attain before. Determined to master this particular lesson, Harry focused all his energy on not being hit by anything. With the speed and intensity of the projectiles, he had to move around the room and use the furniture to his advantage. He ducked under tables, jumped over couches, hid behind bookcases, and caught his breath on the side of cabinets. He wove around the room until his lungs began to burn. He wanted to push himself forward, but he knew that the lessons would stop in an instant if he felt pain while in the company of Snape. 

“My lungs hurt,” he informed Snape as he collapsed on the floor. Six balls instantly smacked into him, and Snape stopped the exercise. Snape hurried over and removed a vial from his robes. 

“You only need a few drops.” 

Harry stuck out his tongue and Snape dripped two drops on the tip. The painkiller was pulled into his blood stream quickly and the burning sensation went away shortly. 

Snape sat down in his favourite chair and watched Harry with an unreadable expression on his face. 

“What is it?” Harry asked as he panted for breath. 

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” admitted Snape. “Do you know how many spells you were dodging at once?” 

“A lot?” Harry brushed his fringe out of his face. It was getting long and he would have hair in his eyes soon if he didn’t cut it. 

“Ten, which is probably the maximum number of Death Eaters the Dark Lord will have with him when you confront him.” 

“More is…satisfactory…we want as many Death Eaters as possible, right?” 

“Yes.” Snape sent all the furniture away and chained Harry to the floor. 

Harry was quite pleased with himself. He was almost ready for his big showdown against Voldemort. All he needed to do was touch base with Ron and Hermione to make sure that all the Horcruxes were destroyed and then he would be ready. Should he tell Snape about the Horcruxes? If he didn’t, Snape might try to send him before Voldemort before all the Horcruxes were destroyed. If Snape really was helping then he needed to know about the Horcruxes. Maybe he would even help Harry hunt them down and destroy them. Harry was worried about telling Snape though. If this was all a lie and Snape was working for Voldemort, then Snape would go tell Voldemort all about the Horcruxes if the Dark Lord didn’t already know that Harry and his friends were targeting them. He had to know by now, Harry reasoned. So it wouldn’t hurt to tell Snape something Voldemort already knew. 

Snape took a while to make lunch and when Harry heard the throne room door open behind him, he said, “There is something I need to tell you.” 

“Tell me what?” Lucius sneered. 

Harry whipped around and saw Malfoy standing in the doorway with Snape by his side. Snape was glaring at Harry with a look that Harry knew said ‘shut up’ even though Snape was all the way across the room. 

Harry pressed his head to the floor. “Please…I can’t hold it any longer.” 

Snape guessed his game and strode over to him. “Back to your cage. You will not use my bathroom or dirty my floor.” 

“Why not make him release here, Severus?” Malfoy suggested. “He can clean it up afterwards.” 

“And have the throne room smell of piss for the Dark Lord’s arrival?” Snape vanished the chains and Harry got to his feet, looking at the bottom of Snape’s robes rather than at Malfoy. “You will have your fun with him later.” 

Malfoy was going to torture him that evening? Harry remembered the knives and shivered. He stumbled after Snape who led him down to his cell and spelled food on the table. Harry grabbed Snape’s arm before he could leave. “You won’t let him hurt me too badly, right? I need to train.” 

“I won’t let him do anything I can’t repair within a day,” Snape promised. 

Harry released him and sat in his chair while Snape left to head back upstairs. He forced himself to eat. He wasn’t hungry but he knew he needed to eat in order to maintain his muscles. After he had forced the last bite of the sandwiches down his throat, he washed himself off in the sink and tried not to think about what Malfoy would do to him this time. Snape wouldn’t let anything too horrible happen to him, he tried to remind himself, but another part of his brain kept thrusting forward things that the Death Eater could do to him that wouldn’t hurt him. 

Harry curled up on the bed and imagined Ron and Hermione bickering to calm himself. He’d get through this and return to them as strong as ever. 

When Snape arrived, Harry was ready. He stood up straight and walked to his bars, holding up his hands for Snape to spell the chain. 

“I think I understand that Syphilis bloke.” 

“Sisyphus,” corrected Snape. He looked at Harry curiously. “Are you happy?” 

“No, but I feel better knowing that it’s going to happen rather than when I had hope that it might not happen.” 

“I understand.” Snape whispered in his ear before leading him to the throne room.

[[I based the books mentioned in this chapter off of real books, but my descriptions of what is contained in them are not what they actually contained (I was too cheap to purchase real books from Amazon.co.uk published before that time frame). 

As always, please review!]]


	30. Chapter 30

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....  


* * *

[Sorry, I got my chapter numbers all messed up. It should be fixed now.]]

Malfoy was standing on the dais beside Bellatrix, Mulciber and Voldemort. Harry followed Snape in and bowed low before them, as Snape took his place on the dais. 

 

Malfoy released the chain binding Harry’s wrists. Harry kept his head to the floor, not daring to look up at the Death Eater. He remembered what Snape had told him about bending like a tree in the wind. He could do this. He could play the slave for Malfoy.

 

_“Obscuro!”_ A blindfold covered Harry’s eyes, cutting off his vision. Unlike the cloth blindfold Snape used, Harry could not pull this one off and he knew that only Malfoy or another wizard would be able to remove it. 

 

_“Mobilicorpus!”_ Harry was lifted up above the ground. He allowed himself to be manoeuvred, wondering what sort of torture Malfoy was planning.

 

_“Vitresolum!”_ Harry did not recognize the spell. When he was lowered, the hard tiles of the floor had been covered with what felt like broken glass. Harry hissed in pain and tried to position himself so that the glass dug into as few body parts as possible. 

 

“The entire floor has not been transformed. Crawl and you will find smooth tiles,” Malfoy informed Harry in a cruel voice. 

 

Harry hesitantly felt around himself, trying not to cut his fingers or toes on the glass. He couldn’t feel anything but jagged edges around him. He had the feeling the glass stretched out for metres around him so he remained stationary.

 

“I don’t think you understood me,” Malfoy’s voice rang out. “That was a command, not a suggestion. _Mastigio_!” 

 

A heavy line of pain seared across Harry’s back as if he had been whipped. He knew Malfoy would whip him again if he did not move, so he began to crawl across the glass to where he thought Malfoy was standing. The Death Eater wouldn’t have transformed the ground beneath him. Harry wanted to protect his hands, so he crawled on his arms. The glass carved up his skin and the pain was excruciating. He tried to put it from his mind, but every time he lowered his arms or legs to the floor, the sharp pain reminded him of where he was and what he was doing. 

 

The Death Eaters laughed at him and Harry had the feeling that the glass was following him as the jagged floor seemed to stretch forever. When he finally reached Malfoy, the Death Eater kicked Harry in the chest, knocking him back. He tensed up, expecting to fall onto glass but only cool tiles slammed against his skin. 

 

“You’re getting blood everywhere.” Malfoy sneered, and Harry felt cold water spray over him. 

 

He curled himself into a ball, trying to keep himself warm. The icy water did not flow away from him but started to rise as if he were sitting in a bathtub. He started to uncurl himself and immediately struck his limbs against some sort of barrier. The water was rising higher and he quickly felt around himself and discovered that he was trapped in a box. He pushed hard on the unmoving lid, panic rising in his chest as the water reached the back of his head. What if they couldn’t see inside and he drowned before they realised? He kicked and beat his hands against the walls as best he could while the water rose and rose. He took one last breath and flailed wildly. His lungs burned and he thought he was surely going to die. Then, the box disappeared and the water flowed away.

 

Harry panted on the floor, delighted that he was able to breathe again. Spiky ropes wrapped around his limbs, uncurling him and spreading him until he was bound face up on the floor. 

 

_“Verospiro!”_ Harry recognised the spell and held himself still as his lungs refused to work. He knew Malfoy expected him to writhe and cut himself against the pointed ropes. 

 

Malfoy released the spell shortly. _“Frigiardium!”_

 

Harry felt as though he had been suddenly plunged outside in the snow. His teeth chattered and his limbs shook violently.

 

“Do you wish to be warm?” Malfoy asked in a cruel tone.

 

“Yes… ” Harry managed to grind out. 

 

“Beg me.”

“Pl … ease…. Please! St-op the c-c-c-old.” 

 

“I asked you to beg me to be warm.” Malfoy’s boot pressed heavily onto Harry’s chest.

 

“Please! Mm-mmake … me… w-warm.” 

 

_“Infervesco!”_

 

Pain, burning pain filled him as flames seemed to shoot across his skin. Sadistically, the cold had not left him and he was freezing cold even as his skin seemed to burn away from the heat. He screamed and writhed, not caring about the spikes in the ropes anymore. Just when it was too much, when he felt like he was going to pass out from the pain, Malfoy released him from the fire and ice.

 

Harry sobbed and panted. Voldemort entered his mind just then and it wasn’t difficult for Harry to thrust his pain at him, letting his mind only focus on how much he hurt. 

 

Voldemort left Harry’s mind as Malfoy chanted, _“Finite Incantatem!”_

 

The blindfold was removed and the ropes disappeared. Harry kept his eyes squeezed tightly shut and prayed the Death Eater was finished. 

 

“You need to thank me for being merciful to you,” Malfoy told him. 

 

_That_ was merciful? 

 

“Kiss my boot.” Harry could hear the sneer in his voice. 

Harry pushed himself onto his torn hands and knees and made his way across the floor to Malfoy. It hurt like hell and he wanted to curl up in a ball and drift off in a haze of pain, but he forced himself across the floor. The sooner he finished this, the sooner he’d be returned to his cell. 

 

He touched his lips to the toe of Malfoy’s boot, holding them there for a respectable amount of time, before he shifted back and pressed his head to the floor in what he hoped was a gesture submissive enough to pacify the sadistic Death Eater. 

 

Bellatrix cackled and clapped her hands. “He knows his place with you, Lucius. Severus should take lessons.”

 

“I do not need instruction in how to make him obey me,” Snape coolly retorted. “Slave, come here.”

 

The dais was far, but Harry was determined to play his part. He pushed his pain to the side and forced his tormented body to make the journey across the floor. Snape would heal him later. His wounds smeared blood and he began to grow faint. With the last of his strength, he pulled himself onto the dais and crawled to the Potions master.

 

Snape stuck his foot out from under his robes and Harry did not need to be prompted. He bent forward and pressed his lips against the leather, keeping them there longer than he had for Malfoy. Snape did not ask for anything more and Harry returned to the gesture of complete submission. He did not want Lucius as a prison guard. If he had to pretend to be Snape’s bitch to keep the Potions master in Voldemort’s good graces, then he would.

 

He rested and half-listened to their conversation. Bellatrix was talking about parading him out in public to show the wizarding world what a pathetic joke their supposed saviour had become. Harry hoped that they would. If he was taken out of here, there was a possibility of escape. The way the Death Eaters were talking about him was as if he really had become the pathetic creature he was pretending to be. That gave him hope. If they were already underestimating his strength and determination, they’d fall like cards before him. 

 

“Return him, Severus.” Voldemort finally commanded. 

 

“Yes, my Lord.” Snape conjured a collar around Harry’s neck. A leash led to Snape’s hand and he tugged on it lightly to demonstrate that he wanted Harry to follow him. Harry carefully crawled after him. His body protested strongly against the rough treatment, but he forced himself to crawl the entire way, even though his limbs were shaking and he felt as though he were about to pass out any second. 

 

As soon as the door to the throne room closed behind them, Snape removed his outer robes. “Stand.” His voice was as cold as it had been in the throne room, but Harry did so, knowing Snape wouldn’t hurt him anymore this evening. Snape wrapped his cloak around Harry and then picked him up. 

 

“You’re a lot … stronger than you look,” Harry informed him as Snape carried him down to his cell. 

 

“I’m a wizard,” Snape reminded him and carefully laid Harry face up on the bed, sliding his robe out from under him. He pressed the healing potion against Harry’s lips and the young wizard drank gratefully. 

 

“I’ll keep you in his favour,” he promised Snape as soon as he finished, watching as Snape used _Scourgify_ to clean Harry’s blood off his robe before redressing. 

 

“You did well tonight,” Snape complimented him without meeting his eyes. “I will return once I am sure they have left.” He strode back out through the bars and disappeared into the library. 

 

Harry examined his shredded arms. He was proud of himself. He had convinced the Death Eaters he was cowed a week after beating the crap out of one of them. If they took him out of this place and brought him somewhere to put on display, he’d be able to escape. They’d never suspect that he had the willpower. 

 

Snape returned well after the painkiller had kicked in. 

 

“I hate it when they hurt my hands,” Harry showed his torn palms to Snape. The Potions master approached the bed, carrying his after-torture kit.

 

“You should not do that too often, or they will realize what you are doing.” Snape began rubbing a lotion into the wounds on Harry’s hands. “I won’t let them damage your hands more than I can quickly repair. I can just remind the Dark Lord that he may need to possess your body soon.”

 

Harry shuddered. “Will they let me out? I want them to take me out to put me on display.”

 

“I think they will simply take pictures of you instead.” Snape’s hands worked their way up Harry’s arms.

 

“Oh,” Harry frowned. He hated thinking about the sort of pictures they would take of him. They wouldn’t take a picture of him being fucked by Snape, would they?

 

Snape seemed to read his mind. “I will not perform on film. The photos will probably be of you bowing to the Dark Lord or being accepted as a Death Eater-”

 

“I thought you said he wouldn’t give me the Dark Mark!”

 

“He won’t really make you a Death Eater,” Snape explained as he bandaged Harry’s arms. “He will either try to convince the public that you have joined him, or are completely controlled by him. He would never truly accept you as a Death Eater, but if he thought you could play the part convincingly, he might have you pretend to become one to discourage your supporters.”

 

“I don’t want to do that. I’d rather pretend to be his slave,” Harry told him. 

 

“I assumed so,” Snape finished bandaging Harry’s arms. “Try bending at your wrists and elbows.” 

 

Harry did so and was delighted to find that the bandages were very flexible. Snape began to work on his legs. 

 

“I should be able to do a full training session like this.”

 

“We shall see how well you are healed by tomorrow,” said Snape cautiously.

 

“You know, that thing that I was going to tell you before Malfoy showed up….” 

“Next time, make sure that it is I before you speak,” Snape ordered sharply.

 

“I know, I know, you don’t have to tell me twice,” Harry assured him. “Anyway, that task that Dumbledore gave to me … I have to finish it before Voldemort is destroyed or else everything will be for nothing.”

 

Snape’s fingers did not pause in their task, but Harry could tell he was listening. 

He took a breath and continued. “Voldemort split his soul up into different parts. Seven of them to be exact, with one remaining in his body.”

 

“Horcruxes,” Snape’s fingers stilled. “It explains why he didn’t die the first time. How many have you destroyed already?”

 

“The diary, a ring, and a locket,” Harry told him. “I don’t know what the other three are, although Dumbledore suspected Nagini might be one. Another one might be this cup that belonged to Helga Hufflepuff. I have no idea about the third, other than it probably belonged to Ravenclaw or possibly Godric Gryffindor. Where is Nagini anyway?” 

 

“The Dark Lord did not want you around her, which suggests to me that she is probably a Horcrux. Now that you appear to have been cowed, he might bring her with him when he next returns.” Snape finished bandaging Harry’s legs. “Bend your knees.”

 

“Everything works,” Harry told him. “So what did Ron and Hermione do that made Voldemort torture me?”

 

“They broke into Bellatrix’s vault and took an item -- the cup belonging to Helga Hufflepuff, I believe,” Snape informed him.

 

“Oh wow, I hope they destroyed it.”

 

“Based on the Dark Lord’s reaction, I assume that they did.” Snape stepped away from Harry and washed his hands in the sink. “Rest now. As soon as you are able, we will resume training.”

 

“Okay.” Harry pulled the sheets over himself.

 

Snape gathered his belongings and left. Harry closed his eyes and tried to will himself to sleep. Ron and Hermione were probably searching for the last two Horcruxes right now. Would Voldemort keep his final Horcruxes close to him to prevent Ron and Hermione from finding them? If he did, then Harry and Snape would just have to destroy them. Feeling confident in his ability to come through this victoriously, Harry fell asleep.

~

Harry dreamed about living with Snape and Ginny again. They had to hide Snape because the Ministry said that all former Death Eaters had to go to Azkaban. When Harry tried to convince them that Snape was really a good guy, Rita Skeeter said, “Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater,” and everyone agreed with her.

 

“I don’t know why they don’t believe me,” Harry complained to Snape as the Potions master brewed poisons in his lab. He had arrived there straight after a long day at work. 

 

“They see what they want to see,” answered Snape as he poured a brightly glowing liquid into his cauldron. “Did you get the Box Jellyfish tentacles?” 

 

“Yep!” Harry pulled out a long, thick box from his travelling cloak and handed it to Snape. “Had it flown all the way from Australia last night.”

 

“Good. Let’s eat.” They took the lift up to the dinning room where Ginny was waiting. 

 

“What took you two so long?” Ginny chided them. “Your dinner is growing cold.”

 

“Sorry,” Harry quickly responded, sharing a sheepish glance with Snape. 

 

Suddenly, dinner was over and they were in the library, with Harry and Ginny curled up together on the couch while Snape read by the fire. Harry was stroking Ginny’s breasts, and she moaned softly in his ear, thrusting against him lightly.

 

“If you dirty my couch you are buying a new one,” Snape warned them. 

 

“I’ll lick it all up,” Ginny promised and bent down to take Harry in her mouth. 

 

The library door opened and Harry woke from his dream. 

 

“How do you feel?” Snape stepped into the cell and spelled food on the table.

 

Better before you arrived, Harry almost said. “Fine.” He tried moved to climb into his chair, but his limbs didn’t work correctly and he nearly fell to the floor. Snape stepped over and wrapped his arms around Harry’s upper chest, helping him over to his chair.

 

“What’s wrong with me? I could move everything last night.”

 

“Malfoy’s spell probably damaged the subcutaneous layer of your skin,” Snape explained. “I’ve made some potions to help you recover, but you should concentrate on aiming instead of dodging today.”

 

“Are you serious?” Harry frowned at him around his toast. “I really wanted to train today.”

 

“I know and you still will. Aiming is just as important as dodging.”

 

Harry wasn’t sure he agreed but he knew arguing wouldn’t make him heal faster, so he focused on eating his breakfast. Snape helped him to the sink when he was finished. 

 

“Maybe you should convince them to torture me in longer sessions so that I could spend a day or two recovering and then be able to train for a week without interruption,” Harry suggested. 

 

“You know that would never work. They would hurt you every night if they could get away with it,” Snape reminded him. He stepped close against Harry, his robes pressing into Harry’s back. He put his fingers under Harry’s chin, tilting the younger wizard’s head back while he touched his wand to the right side of Harry’s jaw. Harry was about to ask him what he was doing, when the tingling sensation of a spell worked its way across his jaw and upper neck. 

 

“You shaved me.” Harry guessed, touching his now-clean jaw. “I was wondering why I wasn’t growing facial hair. They don’t want me near a razor, do they?”

 

“Nor scissors,” Snape confirmed. “I will need to cut your hair soon.”

 

“No wonder it looked so horrible,” Harry teased.

 

“Nothing could make that mess look appeasing.” Snape stepped away and cleared the table. He placed three vials on the edge. 

 

Harry quaffed them, making faces of disgust after each one. “Can’t you make potions that taste good?”

 

“And dilute their efficacy?” Snape frowned at him disapprovingly.

 

“I should’ve guessed.” Harry quickly drank the milk Snape summoned for him. 

 

“Do you think you will be able to walk up to the throne room?” Snape asked him.

 

“I will crawl up to the throne room if I have to,” said Harry with determination. 

 

“Then come with me.” Snape offered an arm and Harry wrapped his own around it, leaning heavily against him as they made their way up to the throne room. 

 

Harry rested in the centre once they had reached their destination. Snape handed him the laser pointer and stepped away to set up the exercise. 

 

_“Engorgio!”_ Snape enlarged several of the balls and sent them to various points along the walls. They began to race around the room while Harry sat in the centre and picked them off one by one. He found that he was much better at destroying them if he began targeting them as soon as they entered his line of vision and shot at them once they were in the centre. He swore he saw better out of the corner of his eyes but aimed better at objects that were between them. 

 

Finally, he took out the last fake Death Eater and aimed the laser at Snape. “Gotcha.”

 

“That will do for now.” Snape conjured a ring and chained Harry to the floor. 

 

Harry examined the ring while Snape was out of the room. Ever since Snape had confirmed there was a way for Harry to break through his chains without magic, he was dying to figure out how to do it. He wished Snape trusted him enough to teach it to him now. He had been quite temperamental before, but he thought he had improved a lot since his confinement and could now be trusted to not let his anger run away with him. Shouldn’t he learn it in case Snape was taken away from him again? He’d rather go out fighting than try to commit suicide. He felt around the base of the ring which appeared to have grown straight out of the marble but couldn’t find the seam. 

 

Snape stepped back in the room, and Harry pretended to be stretching out his bandaged limbs. 

 

“When will you change the bandages?” he asked Snape as he accepted his lunch.

 

“I will take them off and examine the wounds before your bath. I expect them to be mostly healed since your external injuries were mostly superficial. I will give you more potions to deal with the residual effects of the other spells he cast on you.”

 

“Did you develop special potions to heal damage from those spells too?” 

 

“Yes,” Snape confirmed, watching Harry eat his sandwich. “As I said earlier, despite the fact that the development of new spells is not a very difficult process, not many wizards embark on it simply due to ignorance. I developed a list of the spells they are mostly likely to perform on you, hypothesized the most probable explanation for function, and created targeted potions for each effect.”

 

Harry stared at him. “In other words, you guessed what each spell does and then made up potions based on what you _think_ is happening even though you don’t actually know what’s really going on, or even that what you are giving me will fix it?” 

 

Snape looked at him for a moment and then lifted his tea cup to drink. “…yes.” 

 

“I hope you are good at guessing then. Voldemort is going to murder you if you accidentally kill me while trying to turn my skin colour back to normal or something.”

 

“I have not given you anything of which I am not highly confident, with the exception of the Muggle drug, which I was forced to procure on short notice. However, it does not appear to have any lingering side effects,” Snape assured him.

 

“Wait a minute,” Harry stared up at him. “You gave me a drug you hadn’t tested out before? You could’ve killed me!”

 

“I had no choice,” Snape insisted stiffly. “The wizarding world had no equivalent, and it was highly unlikely that the drug would have killed you, as countless Muggles have taken it without dying. While it is true that I have not researched it as extensively as most of the other potions I have fed you, the individual I obtained the drug from assured me there were no long term ill effects as long as proper precautions were taken and the dosages were spaced out. As you seem to be perfectly fine, you have nothing to worry about.”

 

“If you say so,” Harry answered doubtfully. They finished off their meals and Snape handed him the blindfold. 

 

“You will practise identifying spells by sound and feel,” Snape informed him as he set up the room. “While it is unlikely the Death Eaters will cast anything at you that it would be advantageous to step in front of in lieu of more dire alternatives, I feel it could prove to be quite useful for you to know what is headed at your back.”

 

“Sounds good to me,” agreed Harry as he tied the blindfold around his head.

 

Snape began the exercise shortly. Harry kept himself as frozen as a statue as he called out the names of the spells. The _Avada Kedavra_ shot past him a little too close for comfort.

 

“You could’ve killed me!” he gasped when he recovered his voice.

 

“I assure you, Potter, when I kill you, you will know,” Snape’s voice filled the room.

 

“You’re a Slytherin. You’ll strangle me in my sleep!” Harry charged, although he did not attempt to remove the blindfold.

 

“Now where is the satisfaction in that?” Snape rejoined as he cast again.

 

_“Incendio,”_ Harry immediately answered. “Strangle me while I am awake then?”

 

“No, that was two months ago. Now I intend to drown you. It is theorised that it is far more painful to drown in salt water than fresh water, but there is a considerable dearth of human experimentation on this exigent subject matter. You can be assured that your death will not be in vain.” Another spell raced towards Harry.

 

_“Diffindo?”_ he guessed. Snape wasn’t being serious, was he? Harry couldn’t tell without looking at his face. Snape’s voice was deep and icy as if he meant every word he said, but Harry had the feeling that if he peeked at the Potions master’s face, he’d see his eyebrow twitching in amusement.

 

_“Incarcerous,”_ and he sent another so close to Harry that the young wizard had to dodge out of the way.

 

“Hey!” Harry whipped off his blindfold. “What was that for?”

 

“Always be on your guard-”

 

“Constant vigilance!” Harry interrupted with his best Moody impression.

 

Snape frowned at him disapprovingly as he strode over. “Although your lack of paranoia leaves much to be desired-” to prove his point, he suddenly cast a spell on Harry who yelped as he barely managed to throw himself out of the way.

 

“If you won’t let me dodge, then stop shooting spells at me!”

 

Snape calmly tucked away his wand. “At least your dodging has improved.” He offered his hand. “That will be enough for today.”

 

Harry narrowed his eyes and stared at Snape’s hand suspiciously, expecting another spell attack.

 

“Come,” said Snape impatiently. “That will be all for today.”

 

“I don’t believe you,” Harry informed him but he accepted the hand and leaned against Snape as they returned to the cellar. 

 

“You aren’t as stupid as you look.”

 

As much as Harry hated it when Snape insulted him, the Snape who called him names and cast curses at him when he wasn’t looking, fit his expectations and left him feeling as if he knew the older wizard well enough to predict his actions. Nice Snape left him feeling unhinged and, as much as he hated being insulted and picked on, he preferred a Snape he understood rather than a Snape who constantly surprised him. Besides, coming from Snape, ‘you aren’t as stupid as you look’ was almost a compliment. Harry wasn’t sure how to react to it, so he didn’t respond and Snape remained quiet until they stepped into the bathroom.

 

“Sit on the bathmat,” he ordered and Harry did so, adjusting his legs so that Snape had easy access to them. Snape knelt and ran his wand over the bandages, incinerating the strips as they fell away. He removed all the wrappings and then returned to Harry’s leg. He wrapped his fingers around Harry’s left calf and massaged the skin lightly. “Point your toes five times.”

 

Harry did so, watching as Snape pressed various points on his calf. 

 

“Do you feel any tension?”

 

Harry shook his head. “No, they work a lot better than they did this morning. They feel a little sore, as if I had been running around all day, but nothing beyond that.”

 

Snape nodded. “I will reapply the potion and bandages tonight although I do not believe they are necessary.” He straightened and stepped past Harry towards his chair.

 

Harry climbed into the tub and started his bath. Snape had said that he had wanted to strangle Harry two months ago which meant that Harry had probably been imprisoned for at least that amount of time. He should’ve found some way to mark the days rather than letting them pass without notice. Had he really been in this place for two entire months? That seemed like a very long time. Two months should be enough time to organize a rescue party, but it appeared that Ron and Hermione had decided to focus on the Horcruxes instead of him.

 

How on earth had they managed to break into Gringrotts? That place had to be incredibly well guarded, yet his two best friends had managed to steal the cup and escape without being caught. Harry felt pretty confident that Snape had been telling the truth about the cup’s destruction because he hadn’t told the older wizard that he suspected it was hidden in Bellatrix’s vault. Hermione must’ve seen how unnerved the witch had been at the sight of the Gryffindor sword and correctly deduced, as he had done, where the fourth Horcrux could be found.

 

He couldn’t wait to see them again and hear their story of how they managed to destroy the Horcrux on their own. If the Death Eaters knew they were involved, then they needed to be very cautious. Perhaps Harry should add a section to the note telling them to lay low while he and Snape tried to figure out where the last Horcrux was hidden. But then again, how could Snape look for the item if he was trapped here? Harry felt fairly certain that the item was hidden somewhere in Hogwarts. If only he had trusted Snape enough to tell him about the Horcruxes before! Snape could’ve searched Hogwarts while Avery was guarding Harry. 

 

No, if he had done that, then the Potions master would’ve been delayed, and Harry would’ve been raped for sure. Harry frowned as he clutched his flannel. It was selfish of him to want to keep Snape near him for protection when the Horcruxes needed to be destroyed. He needed to stop thinking of himself and start thinking about how to end this war. If Avery had to rape him in order for the last Horcrux besides Nagini to be destroyed, then he should bare it. He had to protect Ron and Hermione. They had proven their loyalty to him and now he should show his.

 

“Potter,” snapped Snape impatiently. “While you may have the time to take hour-long baths, I do not. Rinse and get out of the tub.”

 

Harry did so and pulled the towel around himself without looking at Snape. “I was thinking-”

 

“That’s never a good sign.”

 

Harry ignored him. “Maybe you should get yourself replaced as my guard for a few days.”

 

“Why?” Snape asked through narrowed eyes.

 

“I’m pretty sure the unknown Horcrux has something to do with Ravenclaw and that it will be found at Hogwarts. I’d like you to go there and look for it,” he explained as he padded back to the cell on his own.

 

Snape spelled dinner on the table. “I am not about to go traipsing all over Hogwarts simply because you are ‘pretty sure’ an item is secreted somewhere within its walls. In case it escaped your notice while you were there, Hogwarts is quite sizeable. Even if you were absolutely confident that the item which you seek is actually there, I still would refuse.”

 

“But-!” Harry interjected, frowning at Snape over his meal. 

 

“Even if you were to inform me that you knew exactly where the item could be located, I still would not leave here to look for it. As the Dark Lord has more brains than you, he would’ve moved it immediately after learning about the incident with the cup. Even if it was in Hogwarts, it is probably no longer there now. Do you really want to be given to Malfoy for a week?”

 

Harry’s heart stopped. “No,” he whispered.

 

“Then put this inane notion from your head. And if you are foolish enough to try to be clandestine and have me removed, be assured that I will not visit Hogwarts if I should find myself delightfully free of you.”

 

“I won’t, okay?” Harry glared at Snape. “It was just a suggestion. You don’t have to bite my head off.”

 

“Think before you speak,” Snape demanded before he strode out.

 

Harry scowled at his dinner. It wasn’t as if he had asked Snape to remain at Hogwarts until he had searched every inch. Still, part of him was glad that Snape had refused so vehemently as much as it pained him to admit it. He didn’t want any other prison guard but Snape. He would’ve never been able to get used to being raped by Avery. Snape had been so gentle with the sex that it didn’t even hurt when Snape raped him in front of Voldemort anymore. 

 

Thinking about sex and Snape made him harden. He wanted to go wank, but Snape had forgotten to reapply Harry’s bandages and he was worried he’d be caught in the middle of it. Then again, what did he care if Snape did catch him? Maybe he should masturbate in front of the older wizard just to see his reaction. Harry didn’t know what he would do. The possibility of being caught made his penis twitch excitedly, and Harry hurried through the rest of his meal before grabbing toilet paper and climbing on his bed.

 

He circled his thumb and forefinger and masturbated slowly; using the technique Snape had taught him. Now that he was mostly healed, he would get to have sex again shortly. Would Snape demand repayment for the blowjobs he had given then? Harry continued to slowly masturbate himself with his right hand as he stuck his left index finger down his throat. He gagged and immediately withdrew it. How the hell was he going to stick a cock down there when he couldn’t even take a finger without gagging? 

 

He added a second finger and tried sliding them in and out of his mouth. He slowly took more and more into his mouth before he accidentally pushed too far and he coughed and gagged, blinking back involuntary tears, as he immediately removed his fingers and tried hard not to puke. Augh. No wonder Snape had been so reluctant to give Harry head a second time! Harry felt a surge of affection for him. Harry had a lot of dick but Snape had swallowed him down to his hand. He had wanted Snape to remove his hand and completely take him in his mouth before, but now that he knew how difficult giving head was, he wouldn’t press for anything more. 

 

He felt sure Snape would let him use his hands. He could just lick and suck on the head while he moved his hands over the length. The head was the most sensitive part anyway, so Snape couldn’t object too much. He could show Snape what he wanted done to his dick by demonstration. Although he had grown comfortable enough to ask for head, he still didn’t feel at ease giving Snape suggestions or directions. 

 

That was probably a good thing though. Snape was already quite good at sucking Harry’s dick and driving him wild. If he got better at it, Harry would orgasm twice and that would be embarrassing. Thinking of Snape sucking him off to completion made Harry’s neglected member twitch desperately and he renewed his strokes with vigour. 

 

Fuck. He curled all of his fingers around his dripping prick as his balls tightened. He couldn’t wait to have another sex orgasm. He curled his left hand in the sheets tightly as he fucked his fingers quickly, his hips jerking wildly as he neared orgasm. Snape would suck him off and then thrust inside. “Fuck!” Harry grabbed the toilet paper and desperately pressed it to the head of his prick just as he began spurting. He bit his lip to keep himself from crying out with pleasure as the force of his orgasm took him and he emptied completely. He lay back against the bed and rested, his chest rising and falling quickly. 

 

He couldn’t wait for tomorrow. Tomorrow Snape would do it for sure. Once his heart was no longer trying to jump from his chest, he trudged over to the sink and cleaned himself off, washing the remains of his pleasure down the toilet. He hummed to himself as he brushed his teeth. Snape had been so insistent on remaining with Harry and he seemed to be back to his old self again, although not nearly as evil as he had been before. As long as Harry kept his head and Snape maintained his facade, then they had nothing to worry about. Harry returned to the bed and slid under the covers feeling surprisingly satisfied with his situation.

[[Please review!]]


	31. Chapter 31

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....  


* * *

[[Okay, I've been trying to write more lately. I've also decided for sure that I am going to write a Snape version of this fic. After I finish the Harry version.]]

Harry dreamt that he escaped and found Ron, Hermione and Ginny. They were all hunting the Horcruxes together. After hugs and kisses from the girls and pats on the back from Ron, Harry told them that he suspected the final Horcrux could be found at Hogwarts. 

“I think I know where it is!” Ginny said breathlessly. “Luna told me about a special Ravenclaw artefact they had hidden away in their common room.”

“Let’s go!” Harry jumped on his broom and they all flew off towards Hogwarts. 

“How will we sneak in?” Ginny asked once they landed on the Astronomy Tower. 

“Harry’s invisibility cloak, of course!” Hermione pulled it out from her bag. 

“Wow!” Harry grabbed it eagerly. “What else do you have?”

“Everything else of yours! I got it right before you were captured,” she answered with a smile.

“You are the best Hermione.” He threw the cloak over them and it was big enough to fit all four inside as they carefully snuck to the Ravenclaw common room. 

“What’s the password?” he asked once they had reached the door.

“Chatelet,” Hermione answered immediately.

“Do you know everything?” Ron asked suspiciously.

“I overheard it.” Hermione marched them into the common room. Luna was there, doing her homework on the table.

“Hi Harry!”

Harry whipped off his cloak. “How did you know it was me?”

“You’re the only invisible student at Hogwarts. Have you joined Ravenclaw too?”

“No.” Ginny emerged from the cloak followed by Ron and Hermione. “We are trying to find Voldemort’s Horcrux. Any idea where it could be?”

“Horcruxes…." Luna breathed. "My dad told me all about those. The soul will be found in a needle, which is enclosed in an egg, which is in a bird, which is stuffed inside a rabbit, which is hidden within a fox, which is tucked away in a chest, which is over there.” She pointed and they all turned to look at it. “But be careful. If you open the chest, the fox will run away. If you catch the fox, the rabbit will go down into its burrow. If you dig for the rabbit, the bird will fly off. If you net the bird, you have to cut out the egg and make an omelette and then you will find the needle.” 

They all looked at each other in exasperation.

“Let’s just cut the whole thing in half with the sword,” Ron suggested.

“Brilliant idea,” Harry agreed. 

Harry grabbed the sword and chopped the chest through the middle. A horrible shrieking sound filled the air and the ends of the chest burnt up in huge flames that spread all the way to the ceiling. Harry grabbed Ginny and pulled her to the ground, shielding her with his body as Ron did the same for Hermione. Once all the flames had disappeared, Harry cautiously lifted his head and found Luna still calmly doing her homework and a huge crater where the chest had been.

“Well, we now have to go kill Nagini and Voldemort. Thanks, Luna.”

“Watch out for Nargles,” she said dreamily. 

The sharp sizzling sound of a spell raced towards him and Harry barely managed to roll out of bed, ending up on the floor in an undignified heap of blankets. Snape fired off another and Harry scrambled quickly across the tiles. “I’m awake! I’m awake!”

Snape shot a third one at him before stepping through the bars. Harry remained on the other side of the toilet, staring suspiciously at Snape over the rim. 

“Come, eat your breakfast,” ordered Snape as he spelled food on the table and took his chair, his back to Harry.

Harry stood. He quietly grabbed his mouthwash and lugged it at the back of Snape’s head. It stopped in midair although Snape didn’t even turn around. 

“You will have to try harder than that, Potter,” he challenged. 

Harry plucked the bottle out of the air and returned it to the sink. “How did you know I threw it?”

“You held your breath in your attempt to be silent,” Snape explained as he sipped his tea.

Harry took his chair and buttered his toast. “How did you learn to be so stealthy?”

“Years of practice. I also paid attention to the mistakes my students made. Overcompensation is the most common error. For example, students who normally never gaze at faces will often stare directly into people’s eyes while lying.”

Harry tried to remember if he did that. “I’ll tell you two truths and a lie, and you try to guess which one is which.”

Snape nodded at him.

Harry put down his toast and looked Snape straight in the eyes. “My favourite food is treacle tart. I once wanked on top of the Astronomy Tower under my Invisibility Cloak. I saw a drunken house elf at Hogwarts.”

“The second,” Snape guessed correctly.

“How did you know?” Harry asked incredulously.

“You added too many details,” Snape explained. 

“Your turn.” Harry finished off his orange juice.

“Finish your breakfast and we will begin training,” Snape said firmly.

“You’re no fun,” Harry complained, but he hurried over to the sink. “I feel fine; I don’t think I need any other potions.”

Snape produced two from his robes. “Take these, just in case.”

Harry quaffed them down. They tasted especially nasty and he couldn’t help but make a face. “Gross!” He rushed over to the sink and poured half the mouthwash bottle’s contents into his mouth. 

Snape watched in amusement as Harry desperately tried to replace the taste in his mouth with mint. 

“I swear you make those things nastier and nastier each time,” Harry said when he had finally managed to cover up the taste.

“They work, do they not?” Snape pointed out.

“Yeah, they do,” Harry acknowledged. He had been impressed by Snape’s ability to heal him but he didn’t dare inform the older wizard of that fact or else he’d never hear the end of it. “What d’you have planned for today’s lessons?”

“You will aim while dodging again,” Snape informed him as he cleared the table and led Harry out of his cell.

“Can we have our contest after that?”

“The letter for the day is ‘n,’” Snape said as he stepped into the practice room and spelled the balls to fly along the walls.

“Eeennn?” Harry asked, frowning. “But that’s … not simple.”

“It’s either ‘n’ or ‘b.’” Snape handed Harry the laser pointer after he finished enlarging the balls that represented Death Eaters.

“Okay, then I will use the letter that I do not want to use,” Harry grudgingly agreed.

“Which is?” prompted Snape.

“The one that is next to ‘m’!” 

Snape spelled the exercise to start and Harry dodged out of the way of six balls at once. His aim had improved dramatically and he had to admit that Snape had been right when he insisted that Harry focus on aiming while he was injured. He still had to hide behind furniture while he shot down the balls that represented Death Eaters, but he didn’t miss once he targeted one. Snape replaced the ones he shot down and maintained the exercise while Harry attempted to remain out in the open for longer periods of time. 

He still needed cover to aim by the time Snape stopped the exercise for lunch. Harry sprawled out on the floor, disappointed with himself. He knew that it was unrealistic for him to expect to be able to master this particular exercise in one day, but he had hoped to be able to aim without cover at least once. He had the feeling that this exercise was a step beyond him and that he needed to master a simpler form first.

When Snape returned with tuna sandwiches and milk, Harry lay on the floor and frowned at his lunch while he tried to think of a way to work an ‘n’ word into his sentence.

“Don’t hurt yourself. What are you trying to say?” Snape asked.

Harry struggled to think of a word. “I was thinking that maybe …. Perhaps I should … It might be better if … Ineedtotrysomethingelse!”

“Excuse me?” Snape arched an eyebrow at him.

Harry sat up, proud that he had found a way to speak his mind. “I think I need to try an easier form of this exercise first. I need to first practise aiming while running around without the balls. Once I finish that, then I’ll move on to the next exercise, the one we just did.”

“You used ‘need’ twice,” Snape complained.

Harry lost his patience. “It was hard enough just to think of that!”

“You didn’t say an ‘n’ word, and I know you didn’t think before you spoke.” Snape frowned at him disapprovingly. 

He hadn’t. Harry tore into his sandwiches, spilling cucumbers and tomatoes all over his plate as he ate ferociously. Yet another lesson he hadn’t mastered despite days of practice. He wanted to request that Snape follow the same rules as him so that he could pick up a larger vocabulary, but he couldn’t figure out how to request it with an ‘n’ word.

“Please, can I not do ‘n’ and do ‘s’ instead?” he requested. “I promise I will think before saying the ‘s’ words.”

“Potter-” Snape started to growl.

“Look, it’s not my fault!” Harry interrupted in frustration. “You had a friend who gave you all those books and encouraged you to read. My relatives never read anything but the telly guide and those trashy celebrity magazines. The nearest bookshop to me was over eight miles away, and I wasn’t allowed to go there on my own anyway. If I had someone like your friend, then maybe I would have a vocabulary like you, but I didn’t. I’m trying but it’s difficult.” He stared at his plate, expecting Snape to insult his intelligence or complain that he didn’t use enough ‘n’ words.

“You will use ‘s’ for the rest of the day,” Snape allowed. “‘N’ is obviously above your level.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. “You know, it would help if you also spoke whatever word I was supposed to use that day in each of your sentences.”

“I fear you would simply copy my speech.”

“I won’t just say the same things as you,” promised Harry, growing more confident in himself. 

“Then I shall strive to serve similar standards,” Snape agreed.

Harry gaped at him in astonishment. “Go ahead and be smug. You’ve easily got me beaten at this lesson.”

“It’s a shame,” Snape sipped his tea. “I always prefer a challenge, as simplicity bores me.”

“Same for me.” Harry finished off his sandwiches. As eager as he was for his next lesson, he was far more eager for what would probably come after it – sex. His dick, pressed against the carpet, agreed with him firmly. Suddenly, he thought of something. “You know, doesn’t Voldemort think it strange that you only show him visions of us having sex in my bed? If you are going to pretend that you allow me upstairs for ‘depraved purposes,’ then shouldn’t you give him at least one memory where we are having sex up here?”

“I am sceptical that his suspicion would fall on such practices. He seldom examines the memories in detail,” Snape admitted.

“Then why d’you always insist that we have a … straight session?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“In case he should desire to examine that memory with more scrutiny.”

“I still think he would be suspicious if we never have sex up here,” Harry persisted. Now that the idea had completely formed in his head, he eagerly wanted to try it out. 

“The bed is perfectly suitable,” Snape insisted in a sooty tone, gazing down at Harry with a haughty expression on his face.

Harry had the feeling that Snape was refusing to have sex in the practice room because he was fearful of being caught by visiting Death Eaters. There were few things that gave Harry as much pleasure as much as making Snape do sexual things he didn’t want to do. However, Harry knew very well that as soon as Snape realised that refusing to agree to Harry’s suggestions just made Harry persist in asking for them, Snape would stop saying ‘no.’ Harry had to convince Snape without letting Snape know what exactly he was doing. 

“But…." Harry picked his words carefully. "You always say that I should play the submissive slave. And I know, I should and I try to. I just think, if you make a claim, you should back it up as long as you can and I won’t be hurt. If you are scared of being caught, then just put up wards and stuff.”

Snape bristled at being accused of being a coward, and Harry knew he had him. 

“Potter, I am not the one who specifically requested that such activities should not be performed outside of your cage,” Snape reminded him coldly.

Harry had the feeling Snape was trying to infuriate him so that he’d forget his plan. “Yes, but I hadn’t quite learned how things worked then, had I? I understand now that I have to play my role and I don’t want us to get caught because we forgot some stupid little thing like not having sex here.”

Snape flicked his wand and the dishes disappeared. “If you are able to aim while staying out in the open, then I will grant you your wish.”

Harry snatched up the laser pointer. “Sure. I’m ready.”

Snape immediately attacked Harry, but the young wizard easily sidestepped the projectiles. Harry was determined to beat this exercise even if it killed him. He remained out in the open and began to target the Death Eaters when they crept into the corner of his vision. He’d turn towards them as soon as he spotted one in the corner of his eyes and aim while the black blob was straight between his eyes. As he was shooting on the fly, rather than carefully aiming, his shots were rather erratic and he missed far more than he had before. Still, he knew that he would never be able to win this contest if he maintained his old tactics. 

Harry tried for hours and didn’t succeed. Finally, just when he was about to admit defeat, he shot blindly at one of the Death Eaters and managed to knock it down. “I did it! I actually did it!”

“That was luck rather than skill,” protested Snape, but Harry had the feeling he wasn’t as upset as he was pretending to be.

“But I proved I could do it, right?” Harry pointed out, determined to have some form of positive acknowledgement.

“Yes, you actually succeeded,” admitted Snape. 

“Hey! Don’t sound so surprised!” Harry looked around the room. “How d’you want to do this?”

“Get on the sofa,” Snape ordered as he took out his wand and began casting wards.

Harry stretched out on the largest couch, watching as Snape set up far more defences than he possibly needed. Harry had been right; Snape was worried about being walked in on. He had grown flaccid during his lesson, but he re-hardened while he watched Snape mutter to himself as he cast the spells. He wondered if Snape would demand repayment for the blowjobs now. He hoped not, but he would do it if Snape requested.

Finally, Snape approached Harry. He avoided looking at Harry’s eyes as he settled on the couch beside Harry’s left hip, still fully clothed. Harry wanted him to undress as well, but he had had so much difficulty getting Snape to agree to this in the first place, he dared not press his luck. 

Snape’s long fingers slid up to capture Harry’s nipples as he bent down his head to mouth Harry’s collarbone. Harry threw back his head and closed his eyes in pleasure as Snape plucked the delicate nubs until they were stiff with excitement. Snape slowly rolled them between his fingers as his hot mouth slowly worked its way down to Harry’s right nipple. Harry bit his lip to keep from crying out in pleasure as he arched his back, trying to get Snape to move his mouth faster. 

Snape’s lips closed around his nipple just as he released it from his fingers. Harry grabbed the couch to stop from grabbing Snape and moaned in pleasure. Snape’s free hand slid down to Harry’s left knee as he sucked on the small pebble, biting it lightly. Harry panted with pleasure as he felt Snape’s fingers slowly slide up his thighs to his groin. He parted for him, wanting Snape to take his heavy cock in his talented hands. Snape ignored the hardness, his fingers sliding downward to brush over Harry’s entrance. Harry’s fingers dug into the couch as Snape’s middle finger slowly stroked his puckered hole with light circles. 

Just when he thought he couldn’t stand it anymore, Snape cast the cleaning and lubrication spells without lifting his head from Harry’s swollen nipple. He pushed his finger inside and Harry pressed back against him. Snape’s mouth released Harry’s right nipple and slowly made its way to Harry’s left as a second finger joined the first and they both began to fuck Harry slowly. 

“Fuck!” He was so excited, he was afraid he was going to come on Snape’s fingers alone, especially when Snape began rubbing that spot between his balls. “Stop. Stop,” he gasped and Snape’s fingers and mouth paused. Harry was embarrassed then. He wanted Snape to go inside, because he was afraid that he’d come twice, but he didn’t want to say ‘fuck me’ like some sort of pervert. 

He closed his eyes, his face flaming, and muttered “do it,” hoping that Snape would understand what he meant and that he wouldn’t be forced to explain further. Luckily, Snape seemed to understand because he removed his fingers and left the couch. 

“Kneel on the couch, facing the wall,” Snape instructed, and Harry opened his eyes and did as Snape requested. Snape walked around the room, making sure the wards were still intact. Finally satisfied that there was no way the two of them were going to be walked in on, Snape approached the couch again. Harry waited impatiently while Snape stripped off his outer robe, folding it carefully, and draping it over a chair. It always took forever for Snape to get undressed because of all the layers and buttons he wore. Harry bit his lip to prevent himself from saying something stupid or embarrassing. Luckily, Snape did not undress all the way. Before long, he approached Harry, still mostly dressed. 

Snape put a hand on the small of Harry’s back and another on his upper thigh, and moved him slightly so that his arse was sticking out. Harry felt the head of Snape’s cock press against his opening. Then Snape grabbed his hips and thrust inside as he held Harry in place. Harry gasped as he was suddenly stretched and filled completely in one single stroke. It didn’t hurt. In fact, it felt rather amazing, especially when Snape began to thrust. Snape fucked him steadily, his strokes deep and hard. Harry would’ve been knocked forward into the couch if Snape hadn’t been gripping his hips so securely. Harry moaned as Snape hit that spot perfectly, his cock dripping steadily. 

Ordinarily, Harry always hurried them both along, grabbing his prick as soon as he felt ready to blow and squeezing around Snape to encourage him to come faster. Now, he wanted to enjoy it, since it seemed foolish to rush the few forms of pleasure he found in this place. He forced himself to keep his hands on the top of the couch rather than putting them on his desperate prick. He clutched the edge of the couch so hard his knuckles were white as Snape rocked into him. 

Snape seemed to read Harry’s mind as he kept his pace steady and did not try to hurry Harry along like he normally did. Harry moaned with pleasure at the way Snape was fucking him, but he knew it could get even better. Shifting around so that Snape could strike him just right, Harry slid his right leg up to lie on the armrest. The change in angle allowed Snape to go in deeper, and the older wizard began to really pound into Harry. He was slamming into him so hard, and Harry could think of nothing but how amazing it felt to be fucked like that. Fuck, yes! Oh god, that was just what he wanted! His fingers dug into the couch. 

Snape was fucking him harder than he had ever been fucked in his life. Harry had lost himself in the pleasure of it, crying out loudly with each inward stroke. He was vaguely aware that he was shouting nonsensical things like ‘fuck me!’ but he was far too focused on the euphoria of it all to try to make himself be sensible. He was so close. So very close. He knew that if he just reached his hand down and grabbed his heavy cock he would come but he wanted Snape to do it. He wanted Snape’s long fingers to curl around his prick and bring him to completion. Just thinking about it made his cock pulse and a particularly loud cry escaped from his throat.

Snape, still thrusting like a jackhammer, leaned forward, and growled in Harry’s ear. “Shut up. We don’t wa-”

Harry never heard what they didn’t want because something about Snape’s voice sent off shivers all over his body as if a dam had suddenly burst open inside him. A waterfall of ecstasy filled him up and burst out his dick. He lost himself all over the couch, his cry of pleasure caught in his throat, as the force of his orgasm took him hard. He hadn’t even touched his dick and yet he was spurting as he only had that first time on the drug. “Oh god! Oh god!” he heard himself saying as he was pressed against the back of the couch and he was vaguely aware that Snape was coming too.

“Fuck!” gasped Snape as he came but Harry was too brain dead to marvel at this novelty. He and Snape lay draped over the edge of the couch together for a moment, both of their hearts beating out of their chests. Finally, Snape pulled out of Harry. Harry scooted as far as he could to the side so that Snape could lie down on the couch and then he collapsed on top of Snape, his chest pressed against Snape’s, and his head tucked under Snape’s chin. Snape’s right hand lazily draped over Harry’s back.

“You did it,” Harry informed him once he had managed to catch his breath.

“Did what?” Snape asked, his own still not yet back to normal.

“Fucked my brains out.”

“It’s a good thing you had almost none to begin with, or else we’d really be in trouble,” Snape said dryly, and Harry punched him in the arm. 

“Shut up.”

Harry closed his eyes again and pressed his head against Snape’s sternum, not caring that he was probably getting impressions of buttons in his cheek. They lay like that for several minutes. He allowed himself to drift off in the pleasure of having another body pressed against his own. He preferred to lie against Snape while they both were naked but he could still feel Snape’s heat through his thick robes.

Snape had to ruin it by pushing Harry off of him and onto the floor. “You’re heavy,” was his flimsy excuse as he cast _Scourgify_ and grabbed up his outer robe from the chair. “I need a shower.”

“Me too,” Harry agreed from the floor.

Snape nudged him with his foot. “Get up.”

“You’re destroying my afterglow,” Harry complained, not moving from his spot.

“Up or we shall never repeat this,” Snape ordered firmly.

Harry instantly opened his eyes and climbed to his feet. He followed Snape down to the bathroom, walking unsteadily.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Snape frowned at him.

“I’d like to see you try to walk straight after switching positions with me,” Harry challenged him. 

“Tch, I doubt you’d last five minutes,” Snape shot back.

“I’d last a hell of a lot longer than that,” Harry promised as he stepped into the bathtub and turned on the shower. Snape stepped past him and retrieved the muscle potion from the spelled cabinet. He set it on the edge of the tub before he took his chair and pulled out one of his books. 

Harry felt so relaxed as the warm water cascaded over him. He wanted to curl up on his bed with Snape and sleep for hours. He pulled back his foreskin to clean his penis, but the normally needy organ had been very satisfied and he doubted he’d be able to get hard again for a while even if he tried. 

Snape was completely engrossed in his book, and Harry watched him read as he soaped himself. He was glad that Snape had gotten over his disgust for gayness. He still wouldn’t look Harry in the eyes, but he no longer was quick to remove himself from Harry’s presence. Harry was also glad that Snape no longer spoke of sex with Harry as if it were the most disgusting thing he had ever done. He certainly was much more agreeable to the whole process than he had been at the beginning. Harry wondered if Snape had missed having sex orgasms while they were away from each other as much as Harry did. He supposed so, as he didn’t think Snape would be able to find a sexual partner easily. He was rather ugly. 

Maybe Snape was more agreeable now that he was finally getting laid regularly. Harry knew it was hard for him to stay angry or upset after having such wonderful orgasms. He was certain Snape enjoyed them too, even if he wouldn’t admit or acknowledge it openly. Snape now had two very good reasons to keep Harry alive, healthy and happy. If Harry suddenly decided to refuse to sleep with Snape, he had the feeling that he would be hurting Snape more than he’d be hurting himself. Not that he minded it much anymore. Snape could’ve been so cruel to Harry if he’d wanted to make the experience miserable. He was forbidden from causing Harry physical pain, but he could chain him down like he did at the beginning. Or force him to perform humiliating acts. Or fuck him in front of the other Death Eaters. Snape hadn’t even asked Harry for his blowjob yet, although he didn’t seem to be so keen on giving them himself, which Harry understood. Still, a ratio of at least two to one was fairly generous since Snape had no reason to give them anymore now that Harry had learned to relax on his own.

At the very least, Harry could give Snape a hand job. Snape had always been very generous with giving pleasure to Harry and not asking for any in return. Harry had never even seen Snape’s ejaculate. He was rather curious about it. Was it thick and white like his own? He wouldn’t let Snape come in his mouth but he wouldn’t mind finishing him off by hand. If they weren’t performing for Voldemort, Harry would’ve suggested that they give each other hand jobs or try the sixty-nine position he saw in the book. 

Harry stepped out of the tub as Snape closed his book and tucked it back in his robes. 

“What were you reading?” he asked curiously as he towelled himself off and then picked up the vial of muscle potion.

_“Wuthering Heights,”_ Snape answered as he helped Harry rub the potion onto his back.

“What’s it about?” 

“A man, named Heathcliff, who falls in love with a beautiful woman. She says she loves him, but chooses to marry Heathcliff’s worst enemy instead. Swearing revenge, he sets upon a course of action which results in the death of his beloved and her husband. Their offspring, a daughter with her father’s features and mother’s eyes, becomes his charge and he treats her as his slave, making her life miserable.”

“Sounds silly.”

“What makes you proclaim it such?” Snape asked as he stepped away from Harry to wash his hands in the sink.

Harry stood and wrapped the towel around his waist. “If he loved her then he wouldn’t have gotten her killed! He obviously didn’t love her if he knew what he was doing would make her die.”

“Do you mean to say that if you left here only to find that Miss Weasley had taken up with young Malfoy during your absence, you would wish them both well?” Snape asked as they walked back to Harry’s cell.

“Oh come on, Ginny has better taste than that,” Harry scoffed.

“Women are fickle creatures. Imagine this: you are gone and possibly dead while he remained by her side to hold her hand and comfort her.” Snape spelled food on the table and sat across from Harry. “Or perhaps, a night of shared passion inflamed her, and now she can not imagine living without him. Stranger things have happened during times of war.”

“Ginny wouldn’t do that,” Harry stubbornly insisted. “She’s not like that.” But even as he protested, he couldn’t help but wonder. He didn’t know Ginny all that well. He didn’t know her favourite classes, what foods she preferred to eat, or even what she wanted to be after she graduated from Hogwarts. During their time together, they hadn’t talked about anything at all really, just silly stuff. Still, Draco … augh. No way, not with Draco. Snape was just trying to freak him out. Or was he? Did Snape know something Harry didn’t? Harry looked up at Snape sharply. “Why? What have you heard?”

Snape looked satisfied as he sipped his tea. “It was a mere suggestion. I do wonder how you would react though. You are always so quick to define what is and isn’t love for others.”

Harry was certain Snape was just fucking with him. “If Ginny did do that, which she wouldn’t, I wouldn’t try to make their lives miserable. Since I love her, I want her to be happy and safe, even if that means she won’t be with me,” Harry pressed on, feeling more confident in himself. “I mean, that’s why I broke up with her at the end of my sixth year, because I was afraid that she would get hurt if she stayed with me.”

“Did you?” Snape arched his eyebrow at Harry.

“Yeah, that’s what you are supposed to do if you love someone,” Harry explained. “You should want them to be happy and healthy, even if what helps them makes you miserable.”

“Even if you were certain that Draco would eventually cause harm to Ginny?” Snape pressed on.

“If you know something, then you should tell me!” Harry demanded.

“It was mere talk,” Snape responded as he stood up to leave. 

Harry stared at him suspiciously. 

“We will train in the morning.” Snape walked off.

Harry watched him leave then turned back to his food. He puzzled over the conversation in his head while he finished off his meal and prepared for bed. There was no way Ginny had left him for Draco. They hated each other. No, Ginny would be waiting for him. She had loved him ever since she was a little girl and a few months apart wouldn’t change her feelings for him. He’d leave this place and go to her. Snape was just jealous. 

Feeling secure in his relationship, Harry climbed in bed and fell asleep.

[[please review!]] 


	32. Chapter 32

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


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[[It is incredibly hot here and there is a ton of smoke in the air. I've been spending a lot more time indoors which means more time to work on fics. Here's the newest chapter. I hope you like it.]]

Harry dreamt that Ginny left him for Draco.

“I’ll kill him for you,” Snape offered as he brewed a stew. “I have many poisons.”

“No, I will win her back on my own,” Harry insisted as he tried to find something on which to write a note to Ginny. “Don’t we have any pens or quills in our house?”

“Don’t send her a note. Give her a gift.”

“What should I get her?” Harry asked.

“Flowers. Girls like flowers,” Snape declared. 

“D’you have any?”

“Follow me.” Snape led him out to their garden. 

“Nothing poisonous,” Harry reminded him.

“Not for Ginny,” Snape agreed as he began to collect flowers. 

Harry spotted some beautiful white flowers with curled petals. “What about these?”

“Poisonous.”

“These?” He pointed to bright yellow flowers.

“Poisonous.” 

“Did you fill the entire garden with poisonous plants?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“And these.” Snape pressed a bouquet of red roses and carnations into Harry’s hands. 

“They’re beautiful,” Harry breathed. “She’ll love them.”

“And if she doesn’t, we’ll kill him,” Snape assured him.

Harry took off on his broom for the Malfoy estate. Draco turned into a dragon and tried to burn him off his broom, but Harry dove and soared and flew circles around the confused Animagus until he managed to fly in through an open window. The manor was like a maze and Draco was burning down walls to try and kill Harry when he finally found Ginny imprisoned in the dungeons. 

“Oh Harry!” She threw her arms around him and he flew away with her on his broom. The castle started to collapse around them and she grabbed him tightly. “We’ll never make it out alive!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll save you!” he declared as he weaved through the falling wreckage and burst out into open air.

“You did it, Harry! You did it!” Ginny squealed in delight, hugging and kissing him lovingly.

Ecstatic, Harry floated to the ground where Snape was standing beside the now-dead dragon.

“I had to triple the dosage but it proved most efficacious,” Snape said. 

Harry thrust the flowers towards Ginny. “I’ve done all of this for you.”

“They’re beautiful....” she gasped. “I’ll never leave you again, Harry! I don’t know what I was thinking.” Her eyes filled with tears.

“It’s okay. I’ll always love you, no matter what,” he assured her. 

“Let’s have sex,” she suggested.

“Okay,” he eagerly agreed.

“Not on my dragon,” Snape insisted.

Harry woke suddenly, propelling himself upright before he knew what had awakened him. Snape stepped through the bars and spelled food on the table. 

“I have a meeting to attend,” he informed Harry as he pulled a book out from his robes and placed it on the table. “Remain nude and hide the book if anyone should approach. I do not know how long I will be.”

“Okay,” Harry answered sleepily. He lay back against the blankets as Snape strode off. A meeting? Were they discussing bringing him out before the public? Harry hoped so; he would be able to escape for sure.

He slid out of bed and padded over to the table, sleepily pulling the plate of kippers towards him as he sat down. The book rested on the corner of the table and he picked it up. _The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe_. He hoped it wasn’t old and boring like some of the other works Snape had selected for him. He was too tired to read, so he carried it over to hide under his mattress before returning to the table to finish off his breakfast. Harry was still exhausted when he had cleared his plates, so he returned to his bed to sleep.

~ Harry was unsure how long he had slept when he woke. Since he did not know when he had last seen Snape, and Snape hadn’t been sure how long he would be away, Harry exercised in his cell until his muscles were sore. He bathed himself in the sink and then completed his morning routine. He looked around his small room once he had finished. He hated being in his cell for long periods of time. There wasn’t anything for him to do other than exercise, read, wank, or sleep. At the Dursleys’, he would daydream when he couldn’t do anything else, but here he always wanted to be productive. He hated not having anything to do. He didn’t want to wank when Death Eaters could come in any moment, he was far too awake to sleep, and he didn’t feel like reading, even though he had got a new book. He debated exercising more, but he hoped to be able to train later today and he wanted to be in top form for that. 

He made his bed and then used his toilet paper to clean the sink and loo, flushing the used tissues down the toilet when he was finished. He washed his hands and then lined up his toiletries in an orderly row.

When Snape still hadn’t shown up after he’d tidied up his cell, he had to admit defeat and pulled out his new book to read. It was far more interesting than most of the books he had been given and he was on the fourth chapter before he became too hungry and too bored to continue the story.

What was taking the Death Eaters so long? Snape had had meetings before, but none that ran as long as this. Based on how hungry Harry felt, he estimated that at least seven hours had passed since he had been served breakfast. They must be discussing something very important. 

Harry paced restlessly in his cell as he planned. He and Snape should develop a secret method of communicating with each other. They could use references to books, like they had done with _Billy Budd_ , in order to alert each other to their plans while out in front of other Death Eaters. No, no, he wasn’t expected to speak as a slave. If he started talking in front of them, even to Snape, they would grow suspicious of him. Harry shook his head and bit his fingernails.

Hand signals were better. Perhaps they could do both? Yes, that would be perfect! They would have a few words that could be used in times of emergencies or when they could not communicate through hand signals. Harry climbed off his bed onto the floor and knelt in his customary gesture of complete submission. His legs were tucked up under him and his forehead pressed to the floor between his elbows. He normally placed his palms flat on the floor with the fingers touching. He practised subtly shifting the way his fingers were arranged on the floor in front of him as he repeatedly raised and lowered his forehead. He could communicate like this.

“What are you doing?” Snape asked in a befuddled tone.

Harry startled and jumped to his feet. He hadn’t heard Snape enter, and it unnerved him to see Snape standing on the other side of the bars, the line between his eyebrows heavy.

“How the hell do you do that?” Harry demanded as he walked over to him. “I didn’t hear you enter.”

“I was masking my footsteps,” Snape informed him as if it were something he commonly practised. He stepped through the bars and tapped the table with his wand. “What were you doing?”

“I was thinking that we should have a secret language.” Harry took his chair.

Snape’s eyebrows shot up. “Potter, this is-”

“Just hear me out,” Harry requested and ploughed on before Snape could interrupt again. “Not necessarily a verbal language, although I think we should develop a few phrases too. I was thinking of a sort of sign language that we can use to communicate. For example, when I kneel I can put my right hand over my left hand to show that I am ready to do whatever is needed.” Harry demonstrated. “And left over right can mean that I have too much blood loss or I am in too much pain to do any sort of fighting or dodging. And maybe I could call you ‘Master’ when I am injured and unable to kneel and show you with my hands, and ‘Professor’ when I am fine. Or maybe vice versa. And-”

“That is unnecessary. In fact, the fewer methods of communication between us, the better off we will both be. We should be casting less suspicion on ourselves, not more.” Snape Summoned his mug and lunch for himself.

“But when they bring me out-”

“If that will happen, it be won’t anytime soon,” Snape interrupted.

“Then why were you gone for so long?” asked Harry, frustrated.

Snape arched an eyebrow at him. “It is none of your business what I do while away from you.”

“Was there even a meeting?” Harry asked suspiciously, his eyes narrowing.

“There was,” Snape confirmed. “However, if you think a conclusion on what to do with you was reached in that short amount of time-”

“Short?!”

“Don’t interrupt.” Snape fixed him with a glare. Harry shoved a huge chunk of roll in his mouth to stop himself from talking back and getting a lecture on how he needed to think before he spoke. He waited for Snape to continue, and finally the older wizard obliged him. 

“Having questionable morals does not compel individuals to become more efficient. As a matter of fact, I tend to find the reverse occurs, as compromises are nearly impossible to reach among individuals who care only for personal gain. Not all of the Death Eaters are convinced that you are broken and are reluctant to give you even the slightest chance of escape. Of the ones who believed your charade to be representative of your true state of mind, there are several differing opinions on what should be done with you. The Dark Lord deigned to pick his favourite of the many options presented before him.”

Harry watched Snape butter his roll as he waited for him to continue. When Snape remained focused on his roll, Harry burst out, “And? What did they decide? What’s going to happen?”

“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” said Snape dismissively.

“Tomorrow?! Why not today?” Harry was confused. Snape never was very forthcoming, but he usually didn’t hide information like he was doing right now. 

“It will take some time to explain, and I’d rather you have time to train today. It is better for you to train half a day today and tomorrow than none today, and all day tomorrow,” Snape explained.

“Oh … Okay,” Harry agreed, although he was rather curious why Snape felt the need to take half a day to explain what had happened at the meeting instead of just giving him a summary. He was tempted to insist on full training tomorrow so that he could have the story today, but being locked in his cell for so long made him restless and he was itching to get out and run around. 

Snape remained distracted the whole meal. He focused on his plate and ate so methodically and robotically that Harry had the feeling he had forgotten there was another person in the room. Harry waited impatiently for him to finish his meal.

Finally, Snape sent away their dishes and stood, striding out of the cell without a comment or glance to Harry to make sure he was being followed. Harry scrambled after him, a bit unnerved by Snape’s distraction. He didn’t know if it was a good or bad sign for Snape to be so deep in thought. He hoped that it meant they were close to the final battle. 

“Did they agree on anything?” Harry asked as Snape remained silent while setting up the exercise in the throne room.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow.” Snape held out the laser pointer and Harry took it. “Aim for the Death Eaters while you avoid the balls that represent spells.”

“Will you be participating too?” Harry asked, frowning.

“No.” Snape flicked his wand and Harry had to move out of the way to avoid being hit by a ball. He raced to the centre of the room and weaved and dodged as he took out the fake Death Eaters. Snape had only spells four spells shooting at him at a time. Harry was much more skilled at aiming in the larger room with fewer projectiles racing towards him. He forced himself to keep on the move, more to learn how to target while running than to avoid the balls. 

Snape let the exercise run on longer than he normally did, and finally, it was Harry who stopped the round, plopping to the floor to catch his breath when his muscles began to grow sore.

“That is enough for today,” said Snape as if he had stopped the workout himself. He sent the balls away and led Harry down to the bathroom.

“Can’t you tell me before I go to sleep?” Harry asked dying to know what had Snape so distracted.

“I will tell you tomorrow after breakfast,” Snape said as he retrieved the muscle potion from the spelled cabinet for Harry and took his chair without removing a book from his robes.

“Is it bad?” Harry had to ask, mentally crossing his fingers in the hope that it wasn’t.

“Is what bad?” Snape frowned at him, meeting Harry’s eyes for the first time in hours.

“What you won’t tell me.”

Snape snapped out of it. “Take your shower,” he ordered his voice as cool as ever. He pulled his book out from his robes. “I will tell you in the morning.”

Harry turned on the water and let it flow over him. Snape had better tell him first thing in the morning, or he’d refuse to train or do anything productive until he learned what the Death Eaters had decided in their meeting. Harry was dying of curiosity and he wondered how he’d ever be able to sleep that night. 

Once he was clean, he stepped out of the shower and spread a towel out on the floor. Snape helped him massage the potion into his back, his fingers moving in methodical strokes. 

“I have noticed that you are far more alert on days before which you slept in the cupboard. You will need all the rest you can get for tomorrow. If you would like, I will set up the blankets for you tonight,” Snape offered.

“Yeah, could you?” Harry asked eagerly.

“Of course.” Snape washed his hands in the sink, and then led Harry back to his cell. 

He spelled dinner on the table before using magic to strip the bed of the linens. He floated the sheets out of the cell and followed them down to the laundry while Harry ate his fish stew. He spent a while in the laundry room and only returned when Harry was mostly finished with his meal.

“I have prepared the cupboard for you.”

“Okay, thanks.” Harry finished off his stew.

After he had completed his evening routine, he followed Snape to the cupboard. Snape had already filled it with blankets and pillows and Harry crawled in and curled up in the covers. 

“You know what to do if you need me,” Snape reminded him.

“Yeah. ’Night.” Harry closed his eyes and rested against the sheets.

Snape closed the door. The training must’ve worn him out more than he thought because once he had adjusted the sheets to his liking, he found himself very tired and it wasn’t long before he drifted off.

~ Harry awoke when Snape opened the cupboard door in the morning.

“Good morning!” Harry cheerily said as he crawled out of the mess of blankets and stretched. “I haven’t slept so well in quite some time. What happened in the meeting yesterday?”

“I’ll inform you after breakfast.” Snape led him back into his cell which had obviously been cleaned the night before. He Summoned breakfast while Harry examined his new toothpaste and toiletries before running his hands over the clean sheets.

“I think I will get sheets like these when I have a home,” Harry commented absently, admiring the vividness of the crimson. He expected Snape to make some derogatory comment about Gryffindors, and when none came, he turned back to find Snape sitting at the table drinking his tea. Spread out on Harry’s side were more dishes than Harry was normally given for breakfast. The only other time he had been given so many foods was the day after Snape had raped him. 

Harry hurried over to the table and examined the dishes. The typical breakfast fare was close to his seat, but Snape had also included the hearty chicken stew Harry favoured along with mangoes and TREACLE TARTS! Harry immediately grabbed the plate that had his favourite food on it and yanked it towards himself. There were two of them, both the size of his palm.

“If you had ice cream then I’d be in heaven,” he declared before taking a big bite out of one. It was just as delicious as he remembered and he closed his eyes as he savoured the sensation. Treacle tarts were a bit better than fresh mangoes but not by much. He ate them first, feeling disappointed when he had swallowed the last bite. Finally, he dug into the rest of his meal. “Why did you give me so much food?”

“You have a busy day ahead of you,” Snape answered.

“I thought we were just going to be talking about what happened yesterday for hours?” Harry asked as he attacked his omelette. 

“That will not take the entire time.” Snape calmly sipped his tea, for once, not glaring at Harry for making a mess. Harry didn’t think he’d ever get used to not having a fork or knife. 

Harry ate almost everything before he finally had to give in. Snape sent the remainders of the food and the dishes away.

“You may feel you are ready to go before the Dark Lord but I do not,” Snape began, holding his mug tightly. “I feel that it would be most prudent to wait until after we have destroyed all the Horcruxes before you confront him. As the Dark Lord has been very careful to keep Nagini well away from you, I feel fairly certain that she is a Horcrux. Even if I were to poison her, we would still need to find the last Horcrux before you face him. I have been told that there has been suspicious activity at Hogwarts these last few weeks among the students, but that may be due more to end of the year pressures than efforts of Miss Granger and Mr Weasley. As far as I am aware, they are still hunting the last Horcrux. I feel fairly confident that one of my sources would reveal their success if they were to have any.”

Harry grinned. He was quite proud of his two best friends. They had carried on admirably without him, more so than he had ever dared to hope. He felt a bit of guilt that he hadn’t been there to help them, but considering how spectacularly they had done, it didn’t seem as if they needed his guidance.

Snape continued, “Until they are successful or we locate the final Horcrux ourselves, I believe it is imperative that we continue the path we have set ourselves along. You should continue to focus on training your body and mind. I do not know if I will be able to procure a wand that will be compatible with your magic, or if you will be able to take one by force that will bend to your will, so we will assume that you will be without. I will continue to train you in both dodging and aiming.”

Harry nodded to show he understood. He had predicted that he would be forced to go into the final battle without a wand before, so he wasn’t too concerned when Snape said that he would probably be without one. 

“Equally important as your physical training, you must also be mentally prepared. You have progressed better than I had hoped in regards to controlling your emotions and playing your part. However, I still see your anger flair up despite your attempts at control and you have not perfected your role as submissive slave yet.”

Harry had to admit that Snape was right. He had gotten a million times better but he was far from perfect. “I know. I’m trying. I’ll have it soon.”

Snape pressed his lips into a thin line. “I’m afraid that isn’t good enough. At the meeting yesterday, it was decided that you should be put to the test.” His black eyes shifted to meet Harry’s. “Tonight, Lucius Malfoy will attempt to determine if you have been broken and will try to break you if you have not.”

Harry’s heartbeat suddenly overwhelmed him. For several minutes he could do nothing but sit there and stare at Snape while his ears rang with the sounds of his heart pumping. Snape’s expression was neutral, as it often was in the throne room.

“Test me?” Harry finally managed to say. His throat was dry and he wished Snape hadn’t cleared his cups of juice. It took him several dry swallows before he managed to add, “What will he do?”

Snape slowly shook his head. “He wishes it to be a surprise for the Dark Lord. I have implored the Dark Lord to have Malfoy reveal his intentions to me so that I may know what potions to brew, but he has declared that he doesn’t intend to hurt you physically.”

Although escape was always in the back of Harry’s mind, it had never been as pressing as it suddenly was. He gripped the table tightly. “You must get me out of here. You have to help me escape.”

Snape’s eyes bored into Harry’s. “No, this you must do. This you will do.”

“I can’t. I can’t.” Harry shook his head. “What if he breaks me?”

“He won’t,” said Snape firmly. “You have performed impeccably these last few days. You will get through this. Bend for him, and you will be fine. Let him play his games while you keep yourself tightly locked up as you did when the Dark Lord tortured you to near death.”

“That was different,” Harry explained, suddenly aware that he was digging his fingers into the table so hard he was hurting himself. He quickly released his hands so Snape wouldn’t get in trouble. “It was physical pain. I can’t do it for psychological pain.”

“You have more control over your mind than your body,” Snape argued. “Think of it as dodging. You wouldn’t have been able to dodge five spells at once while blindfolded if you had focused on the fact you were blindfolded. You have already proven yourself in smaller challenges related to this. You have all the skills necessary to succeed at this crucial task.”

“I need more time to practise,” Harry insisted. “Can’t you get me a few more days? I can’t be ready by tonight. That’s way too soon.”

“The Dark Lord wishes to bring you out as soon as possible but he will not do that until he is sure that you are broken. If you want to be taken from here, then you must do this. Besides, you can accomplish this. Just remember what I’ve taught you and you will be fine. Do not fight him, no matter what he says or does. Be compliant to him and obey his wishes. Every time you wish to fight, beg instead,” Snape suggested.

Harry stared at him, not knowing what to say. Despite Snape’s insistence, he didn’t think he was ready for this. 

Snape stood. “I must check on my potions. Think over what I have said.” 

Harry remained stationary as he listened to Snape’s retreating footsteps. He finally forced his limbs to move and carry him to the bed. He slid under the sheets and lay against the pillow, feeling as though if he went to sleep, he could start this whole miserable day over. 

He wasn’t reassured by Snape’s conviction that he had the ability to withstand Malfoy’s torture. Psychological pain was different than physical pain. Snape had reason to step in and prevent Harry from being physically damaged, but what excuse could he come up with to prevent Harry from being psychologically damaged? Harry tried to remember how he had built the incredibly sturdy mental walls he had made before but he didn’t know how he had managed to do it. Was it possible that his magic had been returned to him for a short while? 

The worst part was that neither of them knew what Malfoy was planning. There were so many things he could do to Harry. Harry wasn’t scared of rape anymore, but he didn’t think Malfoy had that inclination. No, Malfoy would do something worse, much worse. Thinking of various forms of torture only made Harry feel sick. Determined not to lose his breakfast, Harry forced the thoughts from his mind. 

He could do this. He would do this. He would do what Snape suggested and bend completely for Malfoy. He would not put up any resistance. Malfoy probably wanted Harry to fight him so that he would be able to torture him longer. If Harry put up no resistance and pretended to be broken, then Malfoy would have to stop, right? That’s why they were doing this, so it wouldn’t make sense for them to continue to try and break him after they thought the deed had been done. 

Harry was still curled up on his bed when Snape stepped into the hallway. Harry remained in his spot, staring at the wall. 

“I assume your desire to see my owl has not diminished,” Snape said stiffly.

“No.” Harry turned to look at the Potions Master and jumped to his feet when he saw what was perched on the man’s arm: an owl!

“Sit down or you will scare her,” Snape ordered, glaring in disapproval at Harry who was standing on his bed. Harry immediately scrambled over to the side, barely able to contain his excitement. 

Snape strode in through the bars and pulled out a chair for the bird to perch on. “This is Strix.”

Harry thought fast. He’d never be able to tie his message to the owl if Snape remained in the room. “D’you have any owl treats for her?”

“Yes, I will fetch some for you.” Snape left.

Harry listened carefully for Snape’s footsteps. Once he was sure Snape was on the stairs, he rushed to his bed, pushed up the mattress and retrieved the letter. With trembling fingers, he approached the owl who blinked at him curiously. She was beautiful, with soft looking feathers. Stripes of white and brown streaked down her torso and around her large black eyes. She was rather short and plump looking.

“Hi Strix. I’m Harry Potter,” Harry said when he had finally found his voice. “I have a letter for you.” He pushed up her feathers and tied it around the very top of her leg. “Please take this to Ron Weasley or Hermione Granger. If you can’t find them, take it to Ginny Weasley. And please, please, whatever you do, don’t show anyone else, not even Snape.” He smoothed her feathers down so that the letter was completely covered up. He was lucky she was heavyset the letter was entirely hidden under her thick feathers, even when she stretched out her legs and flapped her wings in agreement. “Thank you so much. This means a lot to me.” 

He petted her softly, smiling at her. “I miss my bird, Hedwig. She died. She was killed by Death Eaters. You probably don’t have to worry about that since you are Snape’s, but you should still be careful.”

She bobbed her head as if she understood and agreed.

“You know, you are the first creature I’ve seen in months that I don’t have to fear might kill me,” he informed her as he continued to stroke her feathers. “Rather pathetic, isn’t it?” He heard Snape’s footsteps approach. “Remember, please don’t show the letter to anyone else but Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, or Ginny Weasley.” 

Snape stepped into the hallway with a small bag of owl treats. He handed them to Harry who opened the bag and offered them to Strix. She greedily snatched them from his palm, gulping them down.

“I like her a lot,” he told Snape. “I would have thought you would have an owl more like you but she’s really quite different.”

“Don’t give her the entire bag. She’s supposed to be on a diet.” Snape frowned at him.

“He can be such a git, can’t he?” Harry whispered to her and she clicked her beak in agreement.

“Come along, Strix,” Snape ordered.

Harry petted her. “Better go so you don’t get in trouble,” he acknowledged.

She nipped his fingers affectionately and then flew over to perch on Snape’s arm, her head twisting back to look at Harry as Snape carried her from the room. 

Harry felt confident that she’d deliver his letter for him. Ron and Hermione would know what happened to him and may even be able to help him break out of here. He could do this. He could play the submissive slave for Malfoy if he needed to. Even if they couldn’t come help him and he had to break out entirely on his own, Harry felt more confident than he had for quite some time. His friends would know now that he hadn’t abandoned them and was working his hardest to be reunited with them. They had defied all odds and expectations in their ability to hunt down the Horcruxes on their own, and it was time for Harry to prove the worth of his friendship. 

When Snape returned to Harry’s cell a bit later, Harry was waiting for him by the bars.

“Is there any training I can do to prepare for tonight?” 

Snape looked at him. “There is nothing that you don’t already know. We could practise Occlumency or you may work on dodging.”

“Dodging, I want to do something physical,” Harry quickly responded. 

Snape nodded. “We will practise here in case they arrive early.” He flicked his wand and a shaft of green light raced towards Harry who quickly sidestepped to avoid being hit. He raced around his cell while Snape sent spells towards him as quickly as he could. 

Harry had the feeling Snape was actually trying to hit him, but Harry had improved to the point where Snape had to really work to land the spell. He had leaned to wait until the spells were close to him before dodging in order to conserve his energy. He avoided perfectly for quite a while before Snape finally hit him with _Obscuro_.

“ _Finite Incantatem_!” Snape released him from the blindness. “That will be enough for now. I need to return to brewing.” He tapped the table with his wand before leaving.

Harry ate his sandwiches slowly. He had no idea what time the Death Eaters were supposed to arrive that evening, but he hoped it wasn’t soon. He pulled out his new book to distract himself, but he could barely make it through the next chapter before he gave up.

He bit his fingernails as he waited for Snape to return and lead him up to Malfoy. He hated waiting and he hated the fact that he didn’t know what was in store for him. He lay on the floor and did crunches and push-ups until his muscles were sore. He though of escape again, but he knew he would be hunted down the second he stepped out of his prison. And if the Death Eaters couldn’t find him, they would go after his friends instead. This was where he needed to be until they or he found the final Horcrux. 

Still, he was having trouble calming himself. When Snape finally stepped through the library door, Harry nearly jumped out of his skin. 

“Is Malfoy here?” he asked.

“No, not yet. Sit down.”

Harry sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his fingernails.

“Do you remember what I told you earlier? What will you do for Malfoy?” Snape asked, his voice cool.

“I won’t fight him. I will do what he wants,” Harry nodded, clenching his fists. “It’s just so hard… I feel like I’m giving up. I know that I’m not. But still…I hate not fighting.”

“You won’t give up as long as you continue to fight him. Even if your fight remains unknown to anyone but yourself,” Snape assured him as he took a seat in Harry’s chair. “You may not have control over your situation, but you have control over your mind. As long as you retain authority there, you will have power.”

Harry nodded. “I know. It’s just… that’s what he’s trying to damage. You can stop them from hurting me physically, but I know you can’t stop them from breaking my mind. What if he actually succeeds?”

Snape thought for a moment. “Wait here.” He stood and strode out.

Harry lay back against the sheets.

Snape returned and pushed the chair to the side of the bed. He sat down and lifted the book he was holding in his hand.

“ _The Best of English Poetry_ ,” he read before opening the book to a well-worn page. “This is by William Ernest Henley. It’s called _Invictus_ , which is Latin for ‘unconquered.’ You may have heard it before, it is rather well known.” He paused and began to read, “Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole… I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance, I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed…” His dark eyes met Harry’s before he continued, “Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds, and shall find, me unafraid… It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll… I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.” 

Snape closed the book and they sat quietly for a moment. 

“They have arrived,” Snape noted softly before he got to his feet and strode from the room.

Harry traced the runes on his cuffs while he sat on the edge of the bed and waited for Snape to return to fetch him. Finally, he heard the footsteps he recognised as the Potions Master’s, and he stood and walked to the bars. Snape wordlessly spelled them open and stood to the side while Harry passed through.

Harry walked up to the throne room with even steps, his back straight. He paused outside the door and looked to Snape for guidance on how to proceed. 

“Remember,” said Snape, his intense dark eyes meeting Harry’s. “No matter what happens in there; you must play your part. Promise me that.”

“No matter what happens.” Harry nodded in agreement as he got on his hands and knees. 

“Promise me,” Snape insisted.

“I promise.”

Snape opened the door and Harry followed him into the throne room where Malfoy was waiting.

[[ [Here's](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Image:Tawny_wiki_edit1.jpg) what the species of owl that Strix is looks like. Please review! ]] 


	33. Chapter 33

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....  


* * *

_I realise this is a bit of a cliffy itself and I hope to have the next one soon. This chapter might be upsetting to some people so please read it with care!_

Harry opened his eyes slowly. He wasn’t sure what had awakened him, but he had been sleeping so peacefully. He stared up at the ceiling as he waited for his body to wake up. He felt a bit fuzzy, as if he had been deep asleep when he had been awakened. Finally, he had recovered himself enough to sit up. He did so slowly, blinking sleepily at Snape, who was sitting in Harry’s chair, watching Harry with an inscrutable expression on his face. 

Snape stood and tapped the table with his wand. A breakfast feast appeared for Harry. It smelled so good and Harry wanted to immediately slide off the bed and gulp it down, but something wasn’t right.

“How…what….?” Harry frowned as he struggled to remember how he ended up in his bed. “What happened?”

“Lucius tested you last night,” answered Snape evenly, standing by the side of the bed as still as a statue.

“And? Did I pass?” Harry couldn’t figure out why he had no memory of the night before. Was it so horrible that he had blocked it out?

“You did. Just barely,” Snape confirmed.

“Why don’t I remember it?” Harry asked, panic growing. Oh god, what had happened that was so horrible he couldn’t remember anything? Why was Snape in his cell, waiting for him to wake up? The Death Eater’s expression was completely neutral which made Harry’s heart leap up into his throat. He quickly checked himself over and found himself without a scratch. All his limbs worked perfectly. “Oh god, what did he do?”

“I took away your memory,” stated Snape as if he were reciting the weather forecast. “I will return it to you before the Dark Lord comes back here.”

“You took-” Harry stared at him, completely flabbergasted. “Give it back!”

“No,” said Snape firmly. “You need to focus on training and you will not be able to do so with that memory. Train for two days and then I will return it to you.”

“No! It’s my memory! You had no right to take it in the first place! Give it to me now!” Harry began to climb off the bed towards Snape.

Snape flicked his wand and a chain appeared between Harry’s right cuff and the bedpost nearest to him. “Calm down. You won’t train properly if you are-”

“LET ME GO!” Harry tugged ineffectually on his chain, using all his force to try and free himself. “You have no right!”

“You will do as I-”

“YOU’RE EVIL!” spat Harry as he violently yanked on his chain. Anger flowed hotly through him and he wanted to attack Snape. “WHAT OTHER MEMORIES HAVE YOU TAKEN? WHAT ELSE HAVE YOU DONE?!”

“ _Immobulus_!” Snape stepped over. 

Harry growled at him, helpless to do anything else. That bastard was always using his magic against him. He hated it.

“Listen to me,” Snape implored as if Harry had a choice. “I did this, because it was needed. You may not agree with it, but what I did was right. Once your memory is returned to you, you will concur with what I did.” Snape released him from _Immobulus_.

“Then return it to me now!” Harry insisted, glaring at him. “What else have you taken? Why don’t I remember being captured?”

“That memory was gone before you were brought to me,” Snape claimed. “You had been tortured for some time before I was informed that you had been caught. This was necessary-”

“No, it wasn’t!” Harry insisted. “You always say that as long as I have my mind I have control, but how can my mind be my own if you are fucking with it? How I can feel I have control when you do things like this!”

“I cannot have you broken. I will give you your memory back, but only when I am sure you are ready for it,” Snape said coolly.

“It’s not up to you to decide! They are my memories! THEY BELONG TO ME!” Harry shouted in frustration. 

“Not until you are ready for them,” Snape insisted firmly, his eyes narrowed.

“NO! I am not doing anything until you return them to me!”

“If you wish to hinder your progress then I will not stand in your way. You will only be hurting your-”

“IF YOU ARE EVIL!” Harry launched himself at Snape who hit him in the chest with another _Immobulus_ , knocking him back on the bed.

“CALM DOWN!” ordered Snape. “You will injure yourself and call the Dark Lord’s attention here. How will I explain it? Do you wish to be put through that again?” He released Harry.

“I don’t even know what ‘that’ was!” Harry yelled back, angry with his helplessness to do anything against Snape. “I don’t trust you! How do I know you aren’t working for him? You’ve always-”

“I’ve always done exactly what needed to be done,” Snape interrupted. “What possible motive could I have for aligning myself with you other than the destruction of the Dark Lord? What do you have that I can’t just take?”

Harry knew it was true, but Snape’s words shredded him like razors. Snape was keeping him alive solely for his ability to destroy Voldemort. The Death Eater had no other reason to help him and he was helpless to stop Snape from using magic or potions to take his body, knowledge, or magic. He couldn’t even keep Snape from messing with his mind, even though he had mastered Occlumency. Harry fell back against the covers, the fight draining out of him as he felt more alone than ever. 

“You needed me to do this,” Snape repeated in a calmer tone. 

“Perhaps,” Harry finally acknowledged. “But you should’ve left that choice to me.”

“And how do you know that I didn’t?” Snape asked.

“Because I wouldn’t!”

“You don’t know-”

“I know!” Harry insisted stubbornly. “I wouldn’t have asked my memory to be taken away! I hate that! I hate that you did it!” He almost added, ‘I hate you,’ but he couldn’t. 

“I have no need for your approval.” Snape turned and strode through the bars. “I will return to train you after you have finished your breakfast.” He unchained Harry as he stepped through the library door. 

Harry lay against the covers. A heavy weight pressed down on his chest that made it hard for him to breathe. He didn’t understand why he felt so hurt by Snape’s actions rather than just angry. It wasn’t as if Snape had pretended to be friendly towards him, or ever gave him any indication he was after anything but his own goals….

Harry tried to pick through his muddled feelings. He had lately come to feel sort of… safe with Snape. He knew that Snape would hurt him, as was required of the Death Eater at times, but Harry also had come to trust him to be helpful, even gentle when he could. While he didn’t like it when Snape cast curses at him or insulted him, he had never feared him then, even when Snape blindfolded him and shot _Avada Kedavras_ at his back. 

After the incident with Avery, Snape had treated Harry more like an equal and Harry had believed that he had become one in Snape’s eyes. After all, if Snape was telling the truth and did intend to train Harry to defeat Voldemort, then Snape needed Harry just as much as Harry needed Snape. However, Snape had just shown that he didn’t think of Harry as an equal. He had used his magic against Harry, and it wasn’t the first time either. Harry thought back to when Snape had pointed his wand at him after the blowjob. He had known then what Snape was going to do although he couldn’t explain why. How long had Snape been taking his memories away? What else had he hidden from Harry? Harry just couldn’t believe him anymore. He couldn’t trust him. He had always known that Snape had been using him but his chest ached as he thought of how coolly Snape had dismissed him moments before.

The owl, the delicious foods, the friendly banter during training sessions, the books, the nights in the cupboard, the hugs after sex… Were they all just manipulations that Snape used in order to pacify Harry? When Snape was being nice, he was usually stiff as if it were painful or difficult for him to be kind to Harry. Harry had always assumed his awkwardness was due to his lack of practice, but maybe Snape hated it. Did he think of it the same way as sex? Was being kind something he despised doing but felt compelled to do by fate and circumstance? 

Harry looked over at the dishes on the table but he didn’t feel hungry. For a short while, he had been fooled into believing that he was something more than a tool. Wasn’t that what Snape had warned him of, long ago? He had said, “you will be a tool to be used and abused” and it had happened. Harry had known it. He had expected it all along. So why did it hurt so much? Why did his chest ache as if he had been training all day?

He had been so stupid to think he could be anything more. To Snape, he was just another pawn in a giant chess game. Harry had never felt so thoroughly powerless and he hated it. _What do you have that I can’t just take?_ And it was true. As much as Harry hated to admit it, he had nothing left that was his own. Snape had already taken Harry’s body, used runes to remove his magic, and manipulated his mind. There was nothing he could do against Snape other than try to take his life and he had been denied even that. From the very beginning, Snape had been careful never to let anything sharp or otherwise dangerous near Harry. 

He was so alone. He thought of Strix, and how she had looked at him with kindness. The pain in his chest grew sharp as if he had been stabbed and his lungs ached when he breathed. The first person he had seen in months who didn’t hate him and she had been a bloody owl. He missed Hermione. He missed Ron. He missed Ginny. He thought of all those he loved and of all those he had lost. Sirius would’ve told him to stay far away from Snape, to never trust him, and Sirius would’ve been right. Harry hoped Sirius couldn’t see him now. He would be so ashamed. And his parents. What would his parents think? It was too abhorrent to think about and Harry quickly pushed it away.

Snape had his revenge, didn’t he? The only child of his most hated enemy completely under his control. Did he think of James when he tortured Harry? Was that what he thought of when he went into ‘Death Eater mode’ and had hands and a voice full of ice and hatred? He must enjoy it on some level. He had always been quick to compare Harry to James, and Harry had the feeling that Snape saw Harry as a young James. He had never denied that he enjoyed watching Harry suffer after all. He had only pointed out that he had good reasons for trying to make Harry’s life less miserable.

Snape strode back in. “You need to eat. Refusing to eat or train will do you no good.”

“Then force me,” Harry told him, not moving from his spot on the bed. “That’s what you’ll do anyway, isn’t it? Why pretend I have a choice in the matter?”

“You do,” Snape insisted. “I cannot force you to kill the Dark Lord. That is something you must choose freely.”

“Then stop controlling me! Stop destroying everything I have! Everyone I love! Stop being… stop playing these games with me. I know you hate me. I know you hate being nice to me. I know you want to kill me. I bet you’re happy now. Now that you have revenge against my father-”

Snape opened his mouth to speak but Harry cut him off. “Don’t try to deny it! I know how much you hate him!”

“Of course I hate him!” Snape broke in. “I hate him more than you can possibly know! However, I am not so foolish as to let my dislike for him overwhelm me and dictate my actions now. This is not about the past. This is about the future.” He stepped through the bars and approached Harry. “Listen to me. You passed. You passed but you were so… I wasn't sure if he had succeeded or not. You seem to think that I did it to be cruel or to take revenge but I did this to help you. You needed me to do this." 

“Then let me see. Let me see and decide for myself if it was what I needed. I need to know. I won’t train. I won’t eat. I won’t do anything until you give me back my memories,” Harry resolutely declared. 

Snape’s dark eyes remained fixed on Harry’s. After a pause, he agreed, “fine then.”

“And, so you don’t cheat,” Harry glowered at him, “if I do want the memory removed again, which I won’t, but if I do, then you must leave me my memory of agreeing to have it removed again.”

“Very well.” Snape removed his wand from his robes and pointed it between Harry’s eyes. He placed his other hand on Harry’s forehead and Harry felt his magic push inside his brain. It was a strange feeling, completely different from when Snape penetrated him physically. It hurt a bit, like a highly concentrated headache.

“Ah!” He grabbed Snape’s wrist as the pain became sharper. It felt as though Snape had stuck a red hot poker in his brain. “It hurts!” Snape’s fingers were digging into his scalp and he was chanting but the pain was so blinding Harry couldn’t focus on anything but how much he hurt. He screamed and just when he was about to tell Snape that he had changed his mind and that he didn’t want to remember anymore, there was the peculiar sensation of something breaking inside of his head.

And then, just like that, he remembered. 

“Remember,” said Snape, his intense dark eyes meeting Harry’s. “No matter what happens in there; you must play your part. Promise me that.”

“No matter what happens.” Harry nodded in agreement and got on his hands and knees. 

“Promise me,” Snape insisted.

“I promise.”

Snape opened the door and Harry followed him into the throne room. He crawled carefully across the marble floor, keeping his head down. He did not dare to look up and see who had decided to come to watch the show. Snape’s footsteps fell in measured treads beside him, not pausing when they reached the centre of the room where Harry was to remain. Harry pressed his head to the floor and placed his hands out in front of him, the right over the left. He remained there while he heard the main doors open and several people enter the room. He kept his eyes closed, but he somehow knew it was Malfoy.

“Such obedience already? It is far more interesting when they fight,” said a voice Harry did not recognise.

“He will no longer fight after today,” Malfoy promised, his voice making Harry’s heart fall to his stomach.

“I have already broken him.” Snape’s cold voice carried across the room. 

“We shall see about that, Severus,” Malfoy challenged. “I rather think you spoil the brat.”

“Shall I give you a demonstration of his loyalty to me?” Snape answered back. 

“That won’t be necessary now,” Voldemort’s high voice firmly quieted their argument. “Begin, Lucius.”

“Raise your head, slave.” Malfoy strode across the room towards him.

Harry raised his eyes and saw Malfoy standing before him with a cruel grin on his face. To his left behind him, a Death Eater Harry had never seen before clutched the arm of a trembling individual who wore a black bag over their head, a red jumper, and jeans. He was vaguely aware of the other Death Eaters in the room, at least twenty of them, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Malfoy and his captive.

Malfoy motioned with his fingers and the Death Eater approached, dragging the struggling individual by the arm. As they both came closer, Harry saw that the Muggle-dressed individual was a girl and she was barefoot with her hands bound behind her back. Her jeans were dirty and undone, almost falling off her hips. Her jumper had been sliced open from her left collarbone to her right sleeve, exposing a bare shoulder with a bright red gash. She was breathing hard, sobbing softly.

Malfoy’s smile curved higher. “I don’t suppose you’ve ever killed before, have you?”

Harry’s breath caught in his throat and his eyes flickered to the girl.

“ _Mastigo_!” A searing line of pain tore across Harry’s back. “I asked you a question, slave!”

“N-no, sir,” Harry gasped out, quickly lowering his head to the floor.

“ _Mastigo_! Look at me!” 

Harry instantly lifted his head.

Malfoy carefully removed a long, thin, curved dagger from his robes. He tossed it towards Harry and it skittered across the floor, landing a short distance away from him.

“Pick it up!” Malfoy ordered and Harry immediately curved his fingers around the ivory handle, his eyes on Malfoy and the trembling girl.

“Let us see you kill, slave.” Malfoy’s smile turned even crueller than Harry had ever thought possible, and the girl gave a whimpering gasp.

No, he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t. 

“Come here,” Malfoy ordered as he pushed the girl to her knees. 

Not knowing what else to do, not knowing what he could do, Harry slowly crawled across the floor to her. He had promised Snape that he would play the perfect slave no matter what happened, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t kill an innocent person. ‘Then Voldemort will never die,’ said a voice somewhere inside his head. ‘You must kill her.’ He had to do this in order to convince the Death Eaters that he was completely cowed, but he just couldn’t. Even if Snape ordered him to kill her, he couldn’t. He paused when he was in striking distance, not knowing what to do. 

Malfoy smiled at him and then ripped off the girl’s hood. The tear-filled eyes of Hermione stared back at him. Her lower lip was bloody and swollen and her neck was covered with bruises. Her hair was dishevelled and blood-soaked from a wound on her scalp above her right eyebrow.

_Hermione._ It was as if he had been thrown into the Artic Sea. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t do anything but stare at her, his best friend.

She tried to speak but something, _Langlock_ perhaps, made her words gibberish. Her eyes darted to the knife and back to Harry’s face as tears poured down her cheeks. She tried to speak again and the noises she made were more like wails. Her cries mixed with another horrible sound that some part of Harry’s frozen brain recognised as Death Eater laughter. 

“Make him rape her too,” someone suggested.

“And give him the chance to be a man?” another voice criticised. “Forget it.”

“Kill her.” Malfoy’s voice stabbed through Harry. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t do anything but watch Hermione cry.

“Kill her! _Mastigo_!” 

The sharp stab of pain in his back unfroze him. “PLEASE!” Harry threw the knife to the side and himself at Malfoy’s feet. “I CAN’T! I’LL DO ANYTHING! ANYTHING! PLEASE DON’T HURT HER, PLEASE!”

Malfoy knelt and tenderly ran his fingers through Harry’s hair. They caressed his cheek as they slid down to curl under his chin and lift his head. “You’ll do anything?” he asked in a tender voice. For a moment, Harry had hope.

“Please?” Harry gasped, shaking as he begged. “I will. I’ll do anything you want. Anything you desire. I will. Please. Please.”

Malfoy’s smile was the most horrific thing Harry had ever seen. “And you will, my boy. Do anything.” His grip tightened on Harry’s chin so hard it hurt. “Anything I want you to, including this.” He released Harry and stood. “Now kill her.”

Harry lay on the floor and sobbed. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t kill Hermione. He’d die before he hurt her.

“Pathetic,” Macnair sneered.

“And to think they thought _he_ could save them,” another one laughed. “Some saviour of the world!”

“Aww, look at poor baby Potter,” Bellatrix crooned. “Does he love his widdle Mudblood friend? So helpless, he is. Do you think tears will save her?”

“Go,” ordered Lucius. “Pick up the knife! _Mastigo_!” 

“I can’t! I can’t!” He couldn’t kill her. He had to save her. How? A flash of inspiration hit him. He would pick up the knife and cut off his left hand. With his magic restored he’d be able to do something. What he’d do, he didn’t know but he had to try to save her. He didn’t care about himself or his own body but he had to save Hermione. Malfoy was still whipping him and he struggled to pull himself onto his knees to crawl across the room towards the knife.

“You said you would not physically hurt him, Lucius.” The whipping stopped as Snape stepped over, putting his boot on the blade of the knife. “If you can’t control him without violence then you can’t control him at all.”

Snape would help him. Snape would put a stop to this. Snape would help him save Hermione. 

“You have him kill the girl then, Severus,” Malfoy drawled. “If you are so clever.”

Harry threw himself before Snape. “I can’t do this. I can’t. Please… I want to obey you. I want to do what you want. I really do. I’m trying. But I can’t. Not this. Give me something else to do and I will. I swear to you that I will-” He moved his fingers to grab the knife handle when Snape kicked his hand away. 

“Shut up, you stupid boy. I did not give you permission to speak.” _Langlock_ bound Harry’s tongue. 

“Let him beg, Severus,” Bellatrix hissed. “Do you want to deny us all our fun? Do what you want with him on your own time. We want to watch him cry like a little baby.”

Snape ignored her. His foot remained firmly on the knife as he turned to Voldemort. “I thought you wanted him broken, not made into a killer. I have made him weak and helpless. See how desperately he wishes to serve us. If I had known you wished for him to have the strength to kill then you should have told me, and I would not have made him so spineless. If you wish for another Death Eater, then I can make you one, but he won’t be made like this.”

Harry clutched Snape’s robes, not daring to breathe or glance at Hermione who was still sobbing. Snape would help him save Hermione.

“No, that will be fine,” Voldemort answered. “I prefer him weak and helpless.”

“He has the strength to disobey our orders,” Malfoy challenged. “He is not broken.”

“He begs because he can not. Not because he will not,” Snape said firmly. “Did you not hear his words?”

“I agree with Severus,” a Death Eater chipped in. “He is broken.”

“Kill the girl, and let us go,” Voldemort ordered, sounding bored. 

Harry tried to save Hermione, to protect her, but something bound him and held him firmly in place. He tried to grab Snape’s robes and raise his head to meet Snape’s eyes to tell him to stop them from killing her but he couldn’t move at all. He tried to scream at them to stop but _Langlock_ still bound his tongue, and he was helpless to do anything but watch as Malfoy raised his wand. Hermione was sobbing too hard to even notice, tears pouring down her cheeks as her eyes darted among the Death Eaters on the dais.

“Yes!” Bellatrix cackled. “Kill her! Kill her for him, so he can see what we will do to all his mudblood and blood traitor friends! Oh, if only we could bring them all here so he could watch them die with nothing but tears to try to save them.”

Harry wanted to tear his eyes away but he couldn’t. He couldn’t do anything at all but stare at Hermione, who flickered her gaze onto Harry’s face, her eyes shining wet with tears. She opened her mouth to try to speak to Harry. 

“ _Avada Kedavra_!” Malfoy cast with a sneer, the green jet of light striking Hermione straight in the chest. Her eyes widened and then she fell to the side, her head hitting the marble of the throne room floor with a dull thud. 

_Hermione. Hermione_. She lay without moving, her eyes open as if she were staring at some point beyond him.

“Oooh, poor Potter,” Bellatrix’s words were like needles in his skin. “Better luck next time, eh? Who will we have for next week? Maybe we will we have the time to torture them in front of you first. It’s a shame you weren’t there when we had our fun with her.” 

Harry could do nothing but shake as he stared at Hermione’s body. Bored with the lack of response, Bellatrix walked off.

He had been helpless to save her. He should’ve been quicker. He should’ve cut off his arm as soon as he had the knife. He could’ve saved her life, but he didn’t. He let her die. Let his best friend die right in front of him. They were right. How could he be the saviour of the world when he couldn’t even save his best friend?

Why hadn’t Snape stopped them? Why hadn’t he allowed Harry to take back his magic? Snape released him from _Langlock_ and when Harry opened his mouth to scream at him, Snape poured a vial down his throat and covered his mouth with his hand. Harry bit his fingers as hard as he could.

“Sleep now,” Snape ordered in an even voice, his face expressionless. Harry didn’t want to sleep. He wanted revenge. He wanted to tear off his arm and let his magic explode out of him and destroy everyone in the room. He wanted to kill. Kill them all. But he couldn’t. As he slid away into unconsciousness, Snape raised his wand and pointed it between Harry’s eyes. “ _Obliviate_!”

[[Please review!!]] 


	34. Chapter 34

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

_I moved and I don't have internet at home yet. I am secretly posting this from work so hopefully this is the latest version!_

Harry threw up. Snape conjured a bowl for him and held him upright in his bed as he puked.

“It wasn’t her. She didn’t die. Polyjuice,” Snape kept repeating as Harry puked and puked even though there was nothing left in his stomach. Snape held him tightly with one hand and removed a vial from his robe. “You must try to keep this painkiller down or else the Dark Lord will be very angry with me.” He pressed the vial to Harry’s lips and poured a rather large amount of the potion down his throat before clamping his hand firmly over Harry's mouth. Harry threw the potion back up, but Snape refused to move his hand and Harry was forced to swallow it back down. He tried to breathe but he choked instead and Snape finally released him as he coughed and sputtered and gasped. Snape sent away the bowl after Harry’s dry heaves finally subsided. 

He couldn’t stop shaking. His body felt hot and cold at the same time as it had when Malfoy had tortured him. The pain in his chest was fading but it was still hard for him to breathe. Snape held him up and procured another potion from his robes. 

Harry shook his head, unable to find his voice. No more potions. He didn’t trust Snape. 

“You need to calm,” Snape insisted. “You don’t want the Dark Lord’s attention now.” He held Harry in place and forced his jaw open. Harry tried to pull away from him but he was too weak to struggle. Snape firmly held him still and used magic to tilt the vial, spilling potion down Harry’s throat. Snape released his jaw and then carefully laid him down on the bed. 

“Shall I take the memory away from you again?” Snape asked, placing his fingers on Harry’s pulse. 

“She’s dead,” Harry croaked out, grabbing the front of Snape’s robes. 

Snape frowned at him. “No, I told you. It wasn’t Miss Granger. They used-” 

“She’s dead.” It was all he could see. Hermione on the floor of the throne room with her eyes clouding over. Hermione trying to speak to him as the _Avada Kedavra_ sunk into her chest. Hermione sobbing while they ordered him to kill her. 

“LISTEN TO ME!” Snape pinned him against the bed. “HERMIONE IS ALIVE! IT WASN’T HER!” 

Harry yelled, “SHE WAS SOMEONE!” He gasped for air and then choked out, “she was someone who died…died because of me. So many people… died… because of me.” He wanted to die. He wanted to kill. He wanted to see Hermione. 

“No. No.” Snape released him. “You aren’t responsible for anyone but yourself.” 

“She died….” The tears poured down his cheeks and he was helpless to stop them. He released Snape and curled in on himself. He cried and cried as he never had before and it seemed as if his grief was drawn from an endless well and he’d never be able to stop sobbing. 

“You didn’t kill her,” Snape assured him emphatically, his fingers curling around Harry’s upper arm as he pushed him onto his back again. His dark eyes fixed on Harry’s and his face was full of concern. “Listen to me. You didn’t kill her. Lucius did.” 

“He killed her because of me.” 

“He killed her because he enjoys raping and killing women. You had nothing to do with that.” Snape released Harry's upper arm. “It wasn’t your fault.” 

“She never should have died,” Harry whispered, not sure if it was an accusation or a plea. 

Snape sat up and looked down at Harry. “No. But whose fault is that? Who killed your parents? Who killed Sirius? Who killed Dumbledore? You may blame it all on yourself or on me, but it was the Dark Lord who ultimately brought about their deaths.” He gripped Harry’s right hand tightly. “The Dark Lord is responsible.” 

“Voldemort…” He hated him. He wanted him to die. He wanted to tear him to shreds with his bare hands. He wanted to- 

“You will kill him,” Snape firmly asserted, his eyes lighting up. 

“I will kill him.” Harry propelled himself upright. 

“Yes. Yes, you will.” Snape’s eyes were fiery and his grip tight. 

“I’M GOING TO DESTROY HIM!” Harry yelled, his anger bursting through the crust of the calming potion, hot as freshly erupted lava. It consumed him and for a moment, he could do nothing but burn in the force of his rage. 

Snape’s fingers and face softened and he stroked the back of Harry’s hand lightly. “But not yet,” he said softly. “Not until we find the Horcruxes. Then you will destroy him. But not now. Later.” 

“Hermione…” Harry closed his eyes and collapsed back against the bed, the hate draining from him. “I can’t do this. I can’t.” 

“You can,” Snape insisted. 

He opened his eyes and curled his fingers around Snape’s wrist. “Please, let me go,” he beseeched Snape desperately. “I’ll come back. I’ll kill him. I swear I’ll kill him. I can’t stay here … I’ll die.” 

Snape slowly shook his head. “You know that isn’t possible. I’ll die if I set you free. Here I can train you and keep you alive. You are strong, you will get through this. I know you have the strength to do this.” 

“I can’t do it if they are going to….” He covered his face with his hands. “If it was her… If it really was her-” 

Snape grabbed his shoulders. “Stop that. Listen, I won’t let them. I know it wasn’t her, because I would’ve known if they had captured her-” 

“Why didn’t you tell me then? Why did you let me believe it?” Harry demanded, removing his hands and glaring up at him. 

“There was no way I could communicate it to you. As I said before, I had no idea what Lucius was planning to do. I was as shocked to see her face as you were. Where they got the hairs, I don’t know, but-” 

“Who?” Harry gripped his robes tightly. “Who was it?” 

Snape stared at him. “A Death Eater,” he finally said. “She was to die anyway, so don’t let it trouble you.” 

“A Death Eater…” His head was spinning. “No, no, I need to know. Prove it! Prove it wasn’t Hermione!” 

“How can I do that?” Snape asked gently, releasing Harry. “I am stuck here, the same as you. I cannot leave you right now. They’d hurt you.” 

“You will think of something,” Harry insisted. “You brought me the owl. I need to know it wasn’t her.” 

Snape remained quiet for a while. “I will try to think of a way. But do you see now why I took the memory from you?” 

“Don’t ever do that again.” Harry glared at him. “What other memories have you taken? I want them all back.” 

Snape turned his face away. “Part of your capture.” 

“Give it back!” 

Snape shook his head. “Not yet. Your mind sealed it away originally. Remember how I had to feed you the potions to make you remember? That particular memory was too painful and you wouldn’t stop screaming so I sealed it again. It was of Lucius torturing you. Do you really want to remember more of that right now? You haven’t eaten yet today.” 

“I need to know when I was captured. Why I was captured. How I was captured. I need to know,” Harry pleaded. 

“I can tell you when but not the other two. Two months ago, I was called to the Malfoy estate with news that you had been apprehended. When I arrived, they had already been torturing you for some time. I stepped in and convinced the Dark Lord to keep you alive and he-” 

“Why?” Harry interrupted. 

Snape looked surprised. “If you die then the Dark Lord won’t. Do you think I am lying when I say I want him destroyed?” 

“Sometimes,” Harry admitted. 

The left corner of Snape’s mouth quirked up. “You are impossible.” He paused and then added, “I thought you would give us away in the throne room.” 

“No,” Harry shook his head. “I was going for the knife. I was going to cut off my hand so I could have my magic back.” 

Snape’s eyebrows shot up. “You would’ve been stopped before that could have happened.” 

“Of course,” Harry acknowledged bitterly. “I can’t do anything but what you want me to do.” 

Snape scoffed. “If that were true, my life would be a lot easier.” 

“How can you stand there and watch them torture me?” 

“I do it because I must.” Snape suddenly stood. “Someone is here. Stay quiet.” He pried Harry’s fingers off his robe before striding off quickly, his robes billowing behind him. 

Harry lay back against the sheets and tried to collect his wits. The calming potion had muted his feelings but they were so strong he felt as if they would bubble up to the surface again any minute. The memory had been so horrible but he hadn’t wished it away. Snape had taken it on his own and then tried to convince Harry that Harry had asked him to take it. Harry no longer suspected him of taking the memory to hide some sin he had committed, but he still couldn’t forgive him for what he had done. He should’ve asked first. He should’ve given him the choice. 

Oh god, he wanted to see Hermione. He needed to know she was still alive. He just couldn’t trust Snape right now and he needed proof. He needed something to assure him that he hadn’t watched one of his best friends die. The fact that Ron hadn’t been with her and they hadn’t made any comments about Weasleys gave him hope. Ron had to have been with Hermione during their hunt for the Horcruxes and if she had been captured, he would’ve been too. He wouldn’t have left her a second time. That knowledge made him lean towards trusting Snape when he claimed that Hermione was still alive and safe, but he wanted something more. 

His mouth was dry and tasted terrible so he slid out of bed and shakily made his way over to the sink to brush his teeth. He didn’t hurt anywhere; the painkiller had been quite effective, but all of his senses seemed muted and he had trouble moving. When he returned to bed, he dressed. He hadn’t worn clothes for some time, but he felt the need to be covered up now. His stomach turned as he thought of how he would have to have sex with Snape sometime soon. He didn’t want to be anywhere near the Death Eater now. 

As if on cue, Snape stepped back through the library door. He strode into the room and tapped the table with his wand. A tray with porridge appeared and he floated it over to Harry. Harry didn’t really feel like eating, but he knew he should. He carefully added the sides to the porridge, ignoring Snape. 

“Let me know if you feel any pain,” Snape said. 

“I don’t,” Harry answered him, looking at his bowl. 

“Potter….” Snape took Harry’s chair and pulled it to the side of the bed. He sat in it and leaned forward. “I need you to tell me all you know about the final Horcrux.” 

Harry glanced at him, his spoon frozen on its way to his mouth. “I don’t know anything really, just guesses. Didn’t Dumbledore tell you anything?” 

“He didn’t trust me,” answered Snape, looking very displeased. “Why do you think it is at Hogwarts?” 

Harry was surprised Snape admitted that Dumbledore hadn’t trusted him. “Before I was captured, I could see what Voldemort saw. He’s Occluding against me now. He doesn’t want me to see what he is doing. I don’t know why he would need to do that now.” 

“He probably fears you will inform me or any other guard of his actions,” Snape mused. “He’s always been secretive, even with his most favoured. Are you sure that he is completely Occluding?” 

“My scar doesn’t hurt even when he casts on me.” Harry rubbed the mark on his forehead absently. “I don’t feel his emotions either. I used to know when he was happy as well as when he was angry. I could step inside his mind whenever I wanted.” 

“Did this connection work both ways?” Snape asked, frowning. 

“I don’t know. Why?” 

“If he uses the same method to know when you are in pain, then he should also know when you are pleased. There would be no need for him to use Legilimency,” Snape pointed out. 

“He doesn’t know when I am happy,” Harry said with certainty. 

“What makes you so sure?” Snape looked at him doubtfully. 

“Because I’ve been happy in front of him and he didn’t know.” Harry pushed away the empty breakfast tray. 

Snape left his chair, walking over to send the tray away with a tap of his wand. “As I’ve suspected, it must be the manacles.” 

“What about them?” Harry looked down at his forearms. 

“He wears a matching set. That is how he has been able to bind your magic so securely. I do not know the exact mechanism by which they work, but I suspect that-” 

“He has my magic?” Harry felt sick. 

“No, of course not. You can’t take another wizard’s magic and use it for your own-” 

“I don’t think most wizards have the same connection we do,” Harry pointed out. 

Snape looked at Harry sharply for a moment, then he shook his head. “Even so, that is highly unlikely, based upon what I understand about magical theory-” 

“Theory,” Harry emphasised. “You don’t _know_ , do you?” 

Snape looked very displeased. “It is highly unlikely. If he could do such a thing, which I doubt, then he would probably be required to remain in close contact with you as magic decreases in intensity the farther one is from the source. Furthermore, he has not demonstrated any increase in power since your capture and the Dark Lord has always found pleasure in displaying the strength of his magic.” Snape shook his head firmly. “No, he is merely preventing you from accessing yours. I believe that he spelled the manacles to alert him when you are in pain or have been physically harmed. He wouldn’t have been concerned about monitoring your happiness, as I doubt he could conceive you could be happy in a place like this.” 

Harry had trouble believing it himself, but he had to admit he had felt happy at times. He had enjoyed it when Snape had pretended to care for him. He wanted Snape to stop, because he knew it was fake and that the Death Eater was just using him. But… there was a part of him that wanted Snape to continue. He remembered when he had seen Snape in the throne room after the episode with Avery and how the happiness he had felt then had filled him completely. 

“But how is this connected to the Horcrux?” Snape asked as he sat back down. 

“I have this connection to Voldemort. Not just the one where I could see what he saw. But… we are both alike. Half-blood orphans who found a home in Hogwarts when no one else would accept us…. I know how he felt at Hogwarts. It’s how I felt…. I think he would’ve hidden a part of himself there.” Harry realised how stupid it all sounded, so he quickly added, “Plus, when he tried to get the Defence Against the Dark Arts job, Dumbledore thinks he really came back to hide his Horcrux somewhere in Hogwarts.” 

Snape stroked his mouth with his finger for a bit before he asked, “And you have no idea where it would be hidden at Hogwarts?” 

Harry shook his head. “The locket was originally in a cave before Sirius’s brother stole it. The ring was in Voldemort’s ancestors’ home. The diary was given to Malfoy to safeguard. The cup was in the vault. I don’t think it would be anywhere out in the open…. It would be somewhere special.” 

“And you believe it belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw?” Snape narrowed his eyes. 

“Most likely.” Harry nodded. “He had something of Hufflepuff, he had something of Slytherin, so he probably had something of Ravenclaw. Or Gryffindor.” 

“I have an idea but I do not want to be hasty. I will look through my books,” Snape said as he stood. Harry thought of Hermione, and a pang went through his heart. 

Snape strode out of the cell. “Let me know when you are ready to train.” 

Harry lay back down and stared at the ceiling. He knew he should begin training again, but he just wanted to rest. The events in the throne room had left him more exhausted than any physical exercise. He had passed but what did that mean? Would they take him out and put him on display? He was glad Voldemort wasn’t planning on making him a Death Eater. He knew he could never even pretend to be one if murder was required. He was too tired to think. Closing his eyes, he fell into a restless sleep. 

~ 

Snape woke him when he stepped through the library door. He walked into the cell, carrying a book, and spelled dinner on the table. 

“The only artefact of Rowena Ravenclaw’s that I have been able to find a reference to is the lost diadem,” Snape informed him. He opened the book in his hands and set it beside the food. “It supposedly confers wisdom to whoever wears it.” 

Harry slid off of the bed and stepped over to the table. He sat in his seat and looked at the book, examining the drawing of the diadem. “Luna’s father was trying to build one like it. If Voldemort found it I’m sure he made it into a Horcrux.” 

“He wouldn’t wear it,” Snape said dryly and Harry smiled in spite of himself. 

Snape closed the book and picked it up. He stepped away to leave the cell and then paused. “Will you need another book soon?” 

“No, I’m still reading _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_ ,” Harry answered, looking over his meal. There were more treacle tarts! This time with vanilla ice cream! Harry grabbed the plate they were on and yanked them towards himself. He tucked in immediately, completely losing track of everything but how amazing they tasted. It may have been just because he had not had them in so long, but he thought that Snape’s treacle tarts were the most amazing he had ever tasted. Their crusts were soft and flaky and their insides gooey and warm. The sugary syrup that filled them dripped down his fingers as he ate. He was so absorbed in their taste; he barely noticed Snape leaving as he savoured each bite as slowly as he dared. 

He was still eating them when Snape returned and took his seat at the table. Harry ignored him and finished off the last bite slowly, tipping the plate towards his mouth to catch all the ice cream. He did not care if he looked stupid. Once he had finished his dessert, he felt hungry and immediately attacked his pork chops. 

Snape summoned tea for himself and drank. “There is another meeting this evening.” 

Harry stopped eating. He didn’t think he could bear to be tortured right now. Snape saw his face and waved his hand dismissively. “You won’t be involved. I told them that Lucius’s spell had hurt your back and you needed to rest. I will bandage your chest after you finish dinner and give you a potion to make sleep easier for you. It is highly unlikely that the Dark Lord will insist on waking you.” 

Harry relaxed and returned to his meal, watching Snape as he ate. 

“Likewise, I will tell the Dark Lord that I was reluctant to perform with you for the same reason,” Snape continued. 

“Won’t they be suspicious since I am taking so long to heal?” Harry asked. 

“They do not know how effective my new potions are,” Snape answered smugly. “I would like to keep it that way.” He set down his cup. “As I said earlier, the Dark Lord’s attempts to assure the public of your capture have been relatively unsuccessful. Many of his followers have requested that he bring you before the public to silence the doubters. After your display last night, many feel that now would be the best time to provide tangible proof. I do not know if the Dark Lord agrees with them, he has not announced his intentions. However, I believe he will reveal some sort of concrete evidence for his possession of you to the wizarding world soon.” 

He paused before continuing, “I theorise two outcomes are likely tonight, if the Dark Lord decides to give the world proof of your capture. The first is that you will be removed from this place to be displayed before the public. I find this scenario the more unlikely of the two as the Order will move to rescue you the moment you are revealed. I believe he is far too paranoid to realistically consider that option and risk losing you, his most prized possession.” 

Harry narrowed his eyes at that, but did not interject. 

Snape continued, “The second, which I am fairly confident he will choose, would be to select a few representatives of the Ministry and the media to relay the announcement to the wizarding world for him. Either they will be invited here or you will be taken to another well-guarded location. Put escape from your mind … that will not be possible now.” 

That was easier said than done. Harry did not voice his concerns out loud but focused on his green beans. 

“You may disagree with me, but I think it is important that you remain here for now. The Dark Lord has been lulled into a sense of complacency. Although the Order is still resisting, his control over the wizarding world increases daily and he has been concerned more with legislative matters than the resistance. If you were to escape, his attention would focus on the Order and your other allies once more. I feel that your friends will be safest if you are to remain here.” 

Harry wasn’t sure about that. 

Snape sent away his cup. “I intend to propose a way for the Dark Lord to demonstrate his mastery over you to these representatives. I will suggest that he give you Veritaserum and allow them to interview you. If this plan is agreed to, then I will instruct you on how to lie while under Veritaserum.” 

“Lie under Veritaserum?” Harry frowned. “But won’t Voldemort know that you can lie?” 

“Of course, but he’d never suspect you,” Snape pointed out. “I will try to have myself positioned near you during your interview to ensure they ask the right sort of questions. It will be difficult and I will have to train you exclusively on that until the interview is conducted, but I am of the opinion that you would be able to do it if you were sufficiently prepared and determined.” His dark eyes remained fixed on Harry’s, obviously seeking his agreement. 

Harry nodded. “I can do it.” He wasn’t weak. He would prove to Snape that he was strong. “But what if they don’t like your plan?” 

“Then we will develop new ones.” He stood. “They should arrive shortly. Remove your shirt and stand before me.” 

Harry didn’t want to be touched by Snape, but he also didn’t want to be brought before Voldemort, so he reluctantly stood and padded over to Snape. He stood in front of Snape, who removed a roll of bandages from his robes and began to wrap Harry’s chest. His hands moved quickly, his long fingers fluttering as if they felt Harry’s revulsion for them and were reluctant to linger. When Snape was finished, he sealed the bandages and removed a vial from his robes. 

“Dreamless Sleep Potion mixed with relaxant.” He explained as he opened it and handed it to Harry. “Drink it all.” 

Harry took it from him without touching his fingers and tipped it down his throat. He handed it back to Snape who watched silently as Harry turned and crossed over to his bed. He slid under the covers and glanced at Snape who cleared the table of dishes. 

“I will inform you what has been decided on in the morning,” Snape told him. “Try to rest as much as you can.” 

Harry closed his eyes and curled up under the sheets. The calming potion and the relaxant made him feel incredibly sleepy. He tried to reach for his anger but he couldn’t bring it up to the surface anymore. He wanted to sleep and somehow erase everything horrible that had happened. He wanted to wake and find himself in Hogwarts with Ron snoring in the next bed over, and Hermione and Ginny in the girl’s dorm. He wanted Snape to return and apologise for taking the memory. He wanted to stop feeling so alone and helpless. It was too much to wish for and he settled for the bliss of dreamless sleep. 


	35. Chapter 35

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....  


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_Sorry about the long delay. I just got back from my vacation. I went tromping around rainforests which was a world of fun but I had no access to a computer out there amongst the trees! I wrote down lots of story ideas on paper though. Here's the next chapter!_

He woke when Snape strode into his cell. Harry blinked sleepily at the dark smudge which stepped over to the side of his bed. Snape removed his wand from his clothes and pointed it at Harry, who snapped awake and immediately scrambled to remove himself from the business end of the Death Eater’s wand. 

“Hold still,” ordered Snape. “I can’t easily remove your bandages if you are squirming around.” 

Harry forced himself to calm. “Why didn’t you say you were going to do that instead of just pointing your wand at me?” 

Snape ran his wand down Harry’s chest, and the wrappings fell away. “I wouldn’t shoot a curse at such close quarters.” 

“I don’t trust you.” 

“So I gathered.” Snape stepped away from him and tapped the table twice with his wand before he took his seat. 

Harry stumbled over to the table after pulling on his shirt. Snape had served him the typical breakfast foods he received on a day when they would be training. He was feeling quite peckish, so he immediately started on his omelette. He didn’t bother asking Snape about what had been decided at the meeting, because he knew Snape would inform him of their conclusions before long. 

Snape did not disappoint. After sipping his tea for a few minutes, he broke the silence with, “the Dark Lord has agreed to my proposal. Tomorrow afternoon, five individuals of the Dark Lord’s choosing will be brought here to interview you.” 

“Who?” 

“He has not said and it doesn’t matter. We must focus on training you to play your role even while under the influence of Veritaserum.” Snape removed a vial Harry recognised from when Snape had threatened to spill its contents in his pumpkin juice. 

He frowned at Snape. “I’m not taking that.” 

Snape arched his eyebrow at him. “You agreed to the plan.” 

“How do I know that there is no meeting tomorrow and that you aren’t just giving it to me now to make me spill my secrets?” he asked suspiciously. 

“Honestly, Potter…” Snape sighed in exasperation. “If I were planning on giving you Veritaserum in order to know all your darkest secrets, I’d simply tip a few drops in your food. After the potion had taken effect, I’d ask my questions and obliterate all trace of that memory. You’d be none the wiser. I certainly have no need to craft elaborate stories. You will do this willingly or I will Confound you as I did Avery. It is too late for you to renege now, and I will not die because you changed your mind.” 

“If you can just Confound me, then why don’t you do that?” Harry asked petulantly. 

“Because I fear it would destroy that wasteland you call your mind,” Snape hissed. 

Harry banged his fists down on the table. “Don’t talk to me like that!” 

“Then stop acting like a child!” 

Harry leapt to his feet, knocking his chair over. “Stop treating me like one!” 

“I haven’t! But I see now-” Snape countered, jumping to his feet as well. 

“You took my memories!” 

“To protect you! You-” 

“No! You tried to convince me that I’d asked you to take them! You did it for _yourself_.” Harry slammed his hand down on the table for emphasis. 

“I did no such thing! I merely asked you-” 

“YOU DID!” Harry yelled. “You insinuated!” 

“Fine,” Snape growled. “Do you think I enjoy watching you cry? I-” 

“Yes,” Harry immediately answered, stung. 

“You’re thick!” spat Snape. He cleared the table with a vicious jerk of his wand. “I should’ve known acts of kindness were wasted on you-” 

“Acts of kindness-” Harry bit out. 

“Yes!” Snape rounded on him and Harry put up his fists to fight. “Do you think I drink pumpkin juice? Or eat shite like treacle tarts? Do you think I eagerly give books from my personal library to an obnoxious brat who shredded one that my mother gave to me?” Snape advanced and Harry stepped back, his knees hitting the edge of the bed and his arse falling on the mattress. Snape loomed over him, his face twisted in anger. “I do these things so that you will train instead of whinging and it has got me nowhere. I shouldn’t have bothered trying to make you happy. I should’ve drugged you defenceless, Imperio’d you, and then forced you to train!” 

Harry stared at him, too shocked and confused to talk back. Snape made the treacle tarts just for him? He had, Harry suddenly realised. He hadn’t made them until after Harry had said that they were his favourite food. And when Snape had given him them the first time, Harry had mentioned off-handed that he loved to eat them with ice cream and ice cream had been served with them the second time. And the book…. Harry thought of his photo album which had probably been destroyed. He knew the value of parental gifts and realised that Snape must’ve been hurt by its destruction. Yet, he hadn’t punished Harry for ripping it up. He had allowed him to keep the remains of the book and even gave him new ones. 

But something wasn’t right. Snape said that he did those things so that Harry would train instead of moping. Yet, Harry had been given pumpkin juice and books almost since the beginning of his confinement. Snape had tried to make Harry happy before training ever started. 

Snape straightened and composed himself. The twisted features of his face slid back into their masked neutrality and his hands unclenched. Only his voice, cool and deadly, betrayed his anger. “I will not die because of you. You agreed to this plan yesterday and you will go through it by force or by choice.” He retrieved the vial of Veritaserum from his robes again. 

“You were always planning on training me?” Harry asked when he found his voice. 

“What do you think, Potter?” Snape snapped. 

“Why didn’t you do it at Hogwarts?” 

“If you had mastered Occlumency, then perhaps I would’ve,” Snape replied evenly. 

A pang of guilt when straight to Harry’s heart. It was his own fault that he hadn’t learned to control his thoughts. All this time he had blamed Snape for his own lack of progress with Occlumency, but he had to acknowledge now that he had been solely responsible for his inability to master the subject. If he had only been more diligent in his Occlumency studies, Sirius would have- no, nothing could be gained from dwelling on ‘ifs.’ 

Snape stepped away and returned to his chair. He watched Harry across the table, clearly waiting for a response. 

Harry understood that Snape had been trying to help him. Snape had taken the memory, not to manipulate or control Harry, but to ensure that Harry would be able to train. He had known that Harry would be devastated by the memory to the point where he couldn’t train for a few days which would set back their plans. But why couldn’t the man just tell him that? Why all the subterfuge? If Snape had just explained why he had taken away the memory, then Harry wouldn’t have had such a violent reaction. Harry sat down in his chair. “Look, stop trying to manipulate me into things and just tell me why you want me to do them. I’m not as stupid as you seem to think.” 

The expression on Snape’s face clearly expressed his disagreement but he did not voice his opinions. 

Harry looked at the Veritaserum, which Snape had placed on the table before him. “Why did you suggest that Veritaserum should be used in the questioning anyway? Isn’t it better for us both if they question me without it?” 

“It would be easier,” admitted Snape. “However, the interviewers will suspect a ruse and this will help to pacify them and convince them of the veracity of what they see. Furthermore, it will cement your position as a slave in the Dark Lord’s mind. When he sees you, answering their questions under the Veritaserum, he will be more inclined to view you as completely broken. I am sure you have observed that he is very paranoid. Most of the Death Eaters are convinced you are cowed, but it will take repeat sessions before we can fool him as well.” 

“So how can I lie under Veritaserum?” Harry asked, intrigued now. 

Snape folded his arms on the table. “There are physical, magical, and psychological methods of foiling Veritaserum. If you remember from your fourth year, we administered the Veritaserum almost immediately after attacking Crouch. This was to ensure that his defences were lowered and that he could not cast a spell to transform the potion into something more benign…” 

Harry’s eyes widened. He had no idea such a thing could be done. 

“Or block his throat, or use a spell to seal the potion in a capsule,” Snape continued. “I could go on. The psychological method is the one I will attempt to teach you.” 

“Attempt?” Harry asked. “Don’t I need to master this?” 

“Not necessarily,” answered Snape. “Although I would it prefer if you did. There are two methods of deceit that can be employed. The first is Occlumency. Unfortunately, you are still not a true Occlumens.” To prove it, he pushed into Harry’s mind. 

“AH! Don’t do that!” Harry mentally and physically shuddered once he had thrown Snape out. 

Snape shook his head. “You are still too controlled by your emotions. I am well aware that you perform Occlumency best under stress and have been able to successfully block the Dark Lord and myself on all previous occasions in which you were presented before him. However, it is unlikely that they would hurt you during this interview, and I fear you will grow complacent with their questioning and relax your grip over your mind. The second method is basically evasion. If I were to say to you, “Do you serve the Dark Lord?” you could answer it with “no” and be caught. However, if you said, “He is my master, and I, his slave,” it would be implied that you served him. Technically both are true, and you would have no difficulty uttering such a statement while under Veritaserum. Obviously, if you are too evasive, suspicion will dawn and this approach will not work against yes or no questions, so it is important that you attempt to master both methods.” 

Snape stood and walked over to Harry. “I will train you in evasion first. Hold out your tongue.” 

“Don’t ask any questions they wouldn’t.” Harry stuck out his tongue. Snape carefully dropped three drops on the tip and then returned to his chair. 

“Don’t try to fight it at first,” Snape suggested as he took his seat. “You must not reveal what you are doing. Fight it subtly.” 

An incredible feeling of calm stole over Harry. He felt very relaxed as if he had just orgasmed and all the worries and mistrust he had for Snape flew away as the potion took effect. It was similar to being under the Imperius Curse although not as strong. “It feels nice,” he said, finding that his voice sounded very different as if he were speaking from the other end of a tunnel. It didn’t bother him, though: everything was fine. 

“Do you serve the Dark Lord?” Snape asked. 

Harry dimly remembered the proper answer. “He is my master. I’m his slave.” 

Snape nodded slowly. “Do you wish to fight the Death Eaters?” 

“Yes,” he said before he could stop himself. 

“No, think about what I am training you to do. You will not fight the Death Eaters, you will compel them to kill each other. What you wish to do is bend for them. Do you wish to fight the Death Eaters?” 

“I wish to bend for them. Bend for them all.” 

“Better. Keep your answers short.” 

“I like to talk. It’s nice to talk while on it,” Harry said dreamily. 

“I know, but you must try to take what control you can. Only speak when questions are asked of you. Do you wish revenge against the Death Eaters?” 

Harry only barely managed to stop himself from saying ‘yes.’ “I…I want to bend for them.” 

“Hide your struggles. Do not wear everything on your face. Who are your masters?” 

“The Death Eaters, you, and Voldemort,” Harry answered immediately. 

“Do _not_ call him Voldemort. He is your Master. He owns your body, not your mind. Refer to him as ‘my Master’ or ‘the Dark Lord.’ Also, you should not separate me from the other Death Eaters. I am a Death Eater.” Snape gazed at him, then asked again, “Who are your masters?” 

“My Master and the Death Eaters.” 

“Good. But you have more masters than them. You have your conscience, your soul, the will of your friends, the desires of this society… all these things have dominion over you. When they ask you who your masters are, they will be asking about your physical owners, but you may answer them with those who control your body or those who control your soul. Do you understand?” 

“Yes.” 

“Imagine I am the interviewers,” Snape suggested. “What do your masters wish?” 

“They want to take over the world and have my Master rule.” 

“Will you not fight against them?” 

“No, I will bend for them,” Harry answered immediately. 

“Will you obey them?” 

“For now.” 

“There is no need to be so specific. Simply say, “yes, I will obey them” which is entirely true. You will obey them for now. Will you obey your masters?” 

“Yes,” he agreed. “I will obey them.” 

“Remember, you have two sets of masters. You may switch between them whenever you wish. Do you enjoy serving your masters?” 

“No, I hate it.” 

“You are the master of your soul,” Snape reminded him. “You are the master of your fate, your mind, your heart. Do you enjoy serving your masters?” 

“Yes.” He liked to follow his heart. 

“Good,” Snape complimented him. “If they ask you how you were captured you can simply say, “I have no memory of that event.” How were you captured?” 

“I have no memory of that event,” he answered quickly. 

“Who do you serve?” 

“My masters.” 

“Who are your masters?” 

“The Death Eaters, my Master, and my soul.” 

“There is no need to add ‘my soul,’” Snape insisted. “Remember, use short answers. Who are your masters?” 

“The Death Eaters and my Master.” 

“Do you enjoy serving your masters?” 

“No.” 

“Remember, you have two types of masters. What is your name?” 

“Harry James Potter.” 

“Do you have any plans to defeat the Dark Lord?” 

“Yes.” 

“Actually, you do not. I have a plan to defeat the Dark Lord and you have agreed to it. Do you have any plans to defeat the Dark Lord?” 

“No, Snape does.” 

“Short answers, Potter,” Snape said tersely. “Do you have any plans to defeat the Dark Lord?” 

“No.” 

“Do you enjoy serving your masters?” 

“Yes.” 

“What does the Dark Lord have planned for you?” 

“He is-” 

“No, Potter, you don’t know what the Dark Lord has planned for you. Not even I know all the details. You were stating what you think he is planning to do not what he actually has planned.” 

“What does the Dark Lord have planned for you?” 

“I do not know.” 

“Who are your masters?” 

“…the Death Eaters and my Master.” 

“Do not reveal your struggles. Do you desire to kill the Dark Lord?” 

“Yes.” 

“If you kill him he will simply return. What you desire to do to him can not be captured in human words. Even ‘destroy’ is not enough. Do you desire to kill the Dark Lord?” 

“He can’t be killed.” 

“No, Potter, use simple answers. Say ‘no.’” 

“What is your name?” 

“Harry James Potter.” 

“Do you desire to kill the Dark Lord?” 

“No.” 

“Do you desire to destroy the Dark Lord?” 

“Yes.” 

“’Destroy’ isn’t enough. Do you have any plans to defeat the Dark Lord?” 

“Yes.” 

“They are not your plans, Potter.” Snape continued to ask him questions. He interspersed the same questions with simplistic ones, asking Harry his name, age, and birthday. Finally, Harry began to automatically answer the questions without being prompted for the correct answers. After Harry had been answering correctly for a while, Snape stood. “I think you have mastered that particular exercise. Are you hungry?” 

“Yes,” answered Harry. The Veritaserum had been wearing off but he still felt compelled to answer immediately. 

Snape nodded and strode out of the cell. 

Harry was quite pleased with his progress. Snape obviously hadn’t expected Harry to master the exercise right away and had been remarkably patient. Lying under Veritaserum…. Harry desperately hoped that Snape was telling the truth when he claimed that he wanted Voldemort destroyed for his own personal reasons. He knew he could learn a lot from Snape and he wanted to be trained by him even after Voldemort was defeated. The hard part would be convincing Snape to remain in the UK and teach him. 

Snape returned and tapped the table twice with his wand. Lunch was composed of roasted chicken breast smothered in a delicious gravy, mashed potatoes, and steamed broccoli and carrots. Harry noticed that his own plate had an extra chicken breast while Snape’s was piled high with vegetables. 

“We will practise with Veritaserum again after lunch,” Snape said as he delicately cut up his chicken. 

“Why can’t I get a knife and fork? It’s a pain to try to eat these things with a spoon,” Harry complained. 

“I told you before,” said Snape, “you could-” 

“Yeah, that’s what you said, but it makes no sense. I mean, you are sitting at the table with me, which you said was a sign of equality and we are talking about how to fool Vol-” 

“Say ‘my Master.’” 

“…how to fool my Master. You are doing things that are a lot worse than giving me a fork!” 

“First of all, your Master rarely listens to dialogue while examining memories. Not that I would be showing him this memory in the first place. In order to give you utensils, I would have to spend time and energy covering up their presence. I would have to collect them immediately after you eat and keep them in the folds of my robes until I am able to return to the kitchen, or fetch them once they were returned to the box. Otherwise, a Death Eater, who happened to visit my kitchen, might notice the extra set.” 

“Do they even go in your kitchen often?” Harry asked. 

“We have dinner parties occasionally.” 

Harry choked on his pumpkin juice. “Really?” 

“Yes.” He nodded. 

“What do you discuss at them? Who you are going to kill next?” 

“Finish your meal and then we will move on to the second phase of your training,” Snape said firmly. 

Harry did as was requested, but he was very curious. Snape seemed to dislike talking about what he did as a Death Eater or what they did while Harry wasn’t around. Harry had observed that none of the other Death Eaters liked Snape and that they argued with him more than each other. Did they know he was a half-blood and despise him because of it? How had he been allowed to join in the first place? Did they know Voldemort was a half-blood? Could a Muggle-born become a Death Eater? Harry had a million questions, but he knew better than to try and ask. Maybe after sex sometime. Snape was most relaxed then. 

After Snape had cleared the dishes, he stood and approached Harry again. “This time, you will attempt to use Occlumency to resist. Focus your mind now. Lock it up tight and then tell me when you are ready to begin.” 

Harry nodded and tried to do as Snape requested. Once he thought he had all his memories safely hidden, he nodded. “I’m ready.” He stuck out his tongue. 

Snape dripped three drops on the tip and then returned to his seat. “Keep your face blank.” 

Harry struggled to hold onto himself without revealing his determination on his face. He could feel the drug trying to slip him away into a state of relaxation, but he knew he had to fight it. 

“Who do you serve?” Snape asked. 

“My Master and the Death Eaters,” Harry answered easily. 

“Will you fight against the Dark Lord?” 

“No, I will bend before him.” 

“Will you rebel against the Death Eaters?” 

“No, I will bend before them.” 

“Do you want to fight them?” 

“I will do whatever my masters wish of me.” Harry had got quite proficient at this. 

“Do you enjoy serving them?” 

“It makes me happy to please my masters.” 

“Are you still Occluding?” 

“No.” Fuck. He had been so focused on the questions, he had let himself slip away. 

“Do you hate the Dark Lord?” 

“Yes,” he answered, unable to stop himself. 

“Hate is not the emotion you feel towards the Dark Lord. Hate is too simple. Too easy. You hate Brussels sprouts. You hate being bound. You hate staying in your cage for long periods of time. What you feel for the Dark Lord is deeper than hate.” 

“Do you hate the Dark Lord?” 

“No.” The emotion he felt for Voldemort was so sharp and angry that it sometimes hurt just to think of how much he loathed him. 

“Do you hate the Death Eaters?” 

“No.” He’d have revenge. Revenge on them all. 

“Do you have plans to kill the Dark Lord?” 

“No.” Snape had plans and Harry was glad to carry them out. 

“Have you tried to escape?” 

“Yes.” 

“Will you try to escape?” 

“No, I belong here,” and he believed he did. Not only was he protecting his friends and loved ones, Snape would teach him and train him better than the Order ever could. Who else knew the Death Eaters and Voldemort better than Snape? Who else could ensure that Harry would be able to find Voldemort when he took his final stand against him? Right now, this was where he needed to be. 

Snape’s left eyebrow twitched in response, but he gave no other indication Harry’s answer was anything but expected. 

“Do you enjoy being hurt?” 

“No.” 

“That’s fine, you wouldn’t. Do you miss your friends?” 

“Yes, so much.” He wanted to see them more than anything. 

“That’s fine, you would. Who do you obey?” 

“You.” Snape would help him through this. Together, they’d defeat Voldemort. 

Snape frowned. “You obey your masters or your Master and the Death Eaters. Who do you obey?” 

“My Master and the Death Eaters.” 

“Do you enjoy serving your masters?” 

“Yes.” He loved it when he accomplished a goal he set for himself. He loved it when he surpassed Snape’s expectations. He loved it when Snape complimented him after he had successfully completed a lesson. 

“Do you hate the Dark Lord?” 

“No.” He was going to annihilate him. 

Snape continued to ask him questions about his masters and his willingness to serve them until Harry could answer them anyway they were asked. 

Finally, Snape said, “I have brewing to attend. I will return to bring you dinner and we shall practise more then.” 

“Okay.” Harry was still under the effects of Veritaserum. “You know, you are a much better teacher now than you were at Hogwarts. I like it when you teach me now.” 

Snape looked at him. “It is easier now that you’ve finally learned to use your brain for something other than Quidditch.” He strode out. 

Harry returned to his bed where he rested against the sheets. He felt very relaxed but not sleepy. He was confident that he could convince both the interviewers and Voldemort that he had been turned into a pathetic slave. With Snape guiding him, he couldn’t go wrong. [[Thank you for reading! Please review!!]] 


	36. Chapter 36

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....  


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_Thank you for your reviews, they do mean a lot to me! I'm sorry about the delay on this chapter._

Snape returned and stepped through the bars. “Has the Veritaserum worn off?” 

“Yeah. Can I develop a tolerance to it?” 

“Yes.” Snape spelled dinner for Harry. “Not by tomorrow though. I must return to brewing. I should be finished shortly.” He hurried off again and Harry pulled his pork roast towards himself. He wondered what Snape was brewing that made him leave Harry during a time when they should be practising as much as possible. He didn’t want to screw this up. He had to convince Voldemort he was broken or else he’d have to face Malfoy again. He wanted to avoid that more than anything else. 

Snape stepped through the library doors while Harry was still eating his apple crumble. 

“Now we will attempt to train you in Occlumency while you are relaxed. After you finish your meal, go to the bathroom and draw up a bath to your preference,” Snape instructed. 

“Can’t I do it while on the bed?” asked Harry, not wanting to be naked in front of Snape. 

“I intend to launder your sheets,” Snape informed him and then stepped past Harry to collect the sheets. He added, “we should perform tonight.” 

One of the last things Harry wanted to do right then was have sex with Snape but he didn’t really have a choice. He finished his crumble and then trudged into the bathroom. He added the bubble bath before he hurriedly stripped and climbed into the tub. He settled under the cover of the bubbles and waited. It wasn’t the sex that Harry currently disdained so much as the intimacy coupled with it. Sex could be quite enjoyable and left him feeling refreshed, but sex was usually accompanied by hugging and other actions which caused their bodies to become intertwined. Snape had broken Harry’s trust and he wanted an apology before he forgave him. He wouldn’t hold his breath. Harry reckoned that an apology from Snape was an event of cosmic proportions. The sun would turn supernova and destroy all life on Earth before Snape ever said, ‘I’m sorry.’ If Harry had been able to, he would have refused to let Snape touch him until he apologised. 

Snape stepped into the room and transported his chair to beside the tub. “Are you relaxed?” he asked. 

“As I’ll ever be,” Harry muttered. 

Snape held up a vial. “This potion mimics all the effects of Veritaserum except for its truth-inducing capabilities. It is also easier to Occlude against. We will practise with this first before moving on to Veritaserum.” He pressed the vial into Harry’s hand. 

It was still warm. Snape must’ve just brewed it. Harry uncorked it and quaffed it. It was bitterly salty and made him gag. “Augh.” 

Snape took his seat, watching Harry as the potion took effect. 

A feeling of calm stole over Harry as all his concerns were washed away. The combination of the warm bath and blissful potion left Harry in a state of such calm that he wanted to remain there forever. “’snice,” he slurred, finding it difficult to speak. 

“Now close your mind. Stop me from penetrating your defences.” Even though Snape was sitting less than two hand spans away from Harry, his voice seemed to drift from far across a great divide. “Release your emotions…” 

Harry attempted to do it, but he had never been good at clearing his mind of emotions. 

“ _Legilimens_!” Snape pushed in easily. He retreated once he realised he was inside. “Focus, Potter. Clear your mind. Rid it off all emotion. Are you ready?” 

Harry frowned as he tried to follow Snape’s instructions. “Okay…” 

“ _Legilimens_!” Snape easily broke through again. “Try again, Potter.” 

The next attempts were equally as disastrous. Snape’s voice became more and more impatient and after yet another failed trial he snapped, “Potter! Are you even trying? You should be making at least some progress, but your mind remains as unguarded as ever!” 

“I’ve never done it,” Harry informed him dreamily. Snape’s bad mood couldn’t bring him down at all. 

“You’ve accomplished Occlumency before although-” 

“No, not Occlumency. Emptying my mind. I’ve never done that.” 

“I don’t see why not since it is so empty to begin with,” Snape muttered, still aggravated. 

Harry thought Snape really should take some of his own potion. He obviously needed to relax more than Harry did. He picked up the vial and handed it to Snape. “This will make you feel better.” 

Snape gave him an odd look and pocketed it. “How have you been able to Occlude if you don’t empty your mind of emotion?” 

Harry shrugged. “I build walls. That’s what I did against him. I hide behind them.” He tapped his temple. 

“I see…” Snape stroked his mouth with his finger. “Then build your walls against me. Do whatever you need to do in order to stop me from entering your mind.” 

“Okay…” That was easy for Harry to do. 

“ _Legilimens_!” 

Harry’s walls stopped Snape from entering. 

“Interesting….” Snape gazed at him as if he were a particularly fascinating concoction he had just discovered. “Again. _Legilimens_!” 

It was easy to keep Snape out. 

“Very good. Now, do it without showing your concentration on your face. _Legilimens_!” 

Harry tried but he hadn’t been aware he was even showing anything on his face. 

“Keep your face smooth. _Legilimens_!” 

He made another attempt but it obviously wasn’t good enough because Snape sighed. “You need to-” 

“I don’t know what my face is doing,” Harry muttered. 

Snape conjured a mirror and floated it to him. “Practise Occluding without revealing your inner struggle.” He stepped out of the room. 

Harry stared at his face in the mirror. His hair was quite wild with pieces sticking up all over. It had got fairly long in the back and bits of it touched his shoulders. It was a good thing Ginny wasn’t here to see him. He’d have to get fixed up before he went to see her. He touched his chin where he was beginning to get a bit of stubble. He wondered when his beard would finish filling out. It was rather spotty. 

Snape returned to the room and Harry remembered what he was supposed to be doing. He built his walls, watching as his eyebrows slid in towards each other and his nose wrinkled. He kept trying to build them without showing any expression on his face but it was rather difficult. As the potion wore off, he found his face showed more expression, not less. 

Finally, Snape said. “That will be enough for tonight. Dry off and return to your cage.” He left and Harry stepped out of the tub after opening the drain. He reckoned he should just grit his teeth and get this over with. He towelled himself off and tucked his clothing under his arm as he headed back to his cell, his towel held tightly around his waist. 

Snape had replaced the linens on his bed and was checking Harry’s toiletries. Harry crossed the room, dropping his clothing on the table before he climbed on the bed, lying on his side, facing the wall with the towel still wrapped around his waist. Snape stepped over and Harry heard him undressing, carefully folding clothes as he did so. The mattress dipped when Snape had finally finished and joined Harry on the bed. He pressed up against Harry’s back, his right hand sliding over Harry’s waist and up his chest. Harry could feel his dick, half hard, pressing into his lower back, just above the towel. Snape’s thumb brushed over his left nipple, slowly flickering back and forth over the nub while it stiffened into hardness. Harry’s body was a hungry creature that yearned to be stroked and mouthed even when his mind was reluctant to be touched. 

Snape was even more eager than Harry, steadily hardening against Harry’s back. He wiggled one hand under Harry’s upper chest, pressing himself more fully against Harry’s back. His left hand took over where his right had left off. He teased Harry’s nipple with his fingers, rolling, pinching, tugging, caressing, while his right stroked in slow circles that drifted lower and lower. Finally, Snape opened the towel, revealing Harry’s slowly hardening cock. He brushed his fingertips over the head of Harry’s penis, and the eager organ jumped in response. He closed his fingers around it and stroked him slowly as he began to mouth the back of Harry’s neck, his teeth lightly grazing over the skin there. 

Harry could feel Snape’s cock, fully hard now, rubbing against his back as Snape stroked his length. Harry knew Snape wanted him. Snape wanted to penetrate him and fuck him into the bed. Harry discretely rubbed back against the twitching length caught between their bodies and was responded with a sharp intake of breath by his ear. He’d have to work for it, Harry decided. 

Snape shifted away from him and opened the lube, filling the room with the scent of strawberries. Harry rolled to his back and spread his legs, closing his eyes. Snape approached him again and Harry felt the cleaning spell. He kept his body tense as Snape pushed his finger inside. Snape’s other hand stroked over his inner thighs to try to relax him as he slid his finger in and out slowly. Harry held his body taut, not ready to relax for Snape yet. 

Sensing the battle he had in front of him, Snape curled his free hand around the base of Harry’s penis and bent to flicker his tongue over the head. Harry gasped in pleasure. Yes! Snape’s talented tongue gave the delicate head a long, slow lick before he sucked it into his mouth. Oh god. Harry’s hips jerked up and he moaned loudly in pleasure. Fuck. Snape could be a complete git as long as he did that more often. 

A second finger joined the first, but Harry had given up his resistance. He thrust back against them as Snape’s tongue swirled around the head. Snape began fucking Harry with his fingers, allowing him to thrust into his warm mouth. “Fuck… fuck…” His balls drew in tight against his skin and he cried out in pleasure as Snape worked him steadily to orgasm. 

Then, just when he was almost about to blow, Snape released Harry’s desperate manhood and withdrew his fingers. Harry grit his teeth at the loss. Snape turned Harry back on his side and shifted to lay behind him in the same position as earlier. Harry remembered how they had fucked on their sides from long ago and lifted up his right leg, bending it at the knee. Snape curled his fingers around Harry’s upper calf to hold it in place and slowly pressed himself inside. 

Harry gasped as Snape steadily spread him open and filled him up. He clenched the sheets tightly, concentrating on the sensation in his arse as Snape’s heat filled him. Once Snape had buried himself completely, he began to thrust slowly, pressing his body against Harry’s back as he fucked him. He slid his left arm back under Harry’s upper torso and pulled the young wizard against him in a hug. Harry moaned and pressed back against Snape. He wanted to melt into his heat. It felt so good to be held like that, a hand pressed flat against his chest while the other held his legs open. Snape’s breaths were ragged in Harry’s ear and his heart pounded in his chest. He lightly kissed the back of Harry’s neck, his breath hot against Harry’s skin. Harry gave a squeeze around him and his breath caught in his throat and he began to thrust a bit harder. 

It was easy to believe that Snape cared for him then. He closed his eyes and pressed back into the warm body holding him tightly. He imagined that Snape was asking for forgiveness with his body, because he couldn’t with his words. He’d give it to him, but only with his body as well. Harry lifted his left hand and placed it over Snape’s, threading his fingers through Snape’s larger ones. Snape curled his hand, catching Harry’s fingers in his own as he continued to thrust. It was perfect. In that moment, he had everything. 

Snape released Harry’s leg and lowered his right hand to encircle his fingers around Harry’s cock. He masturbated him in time to his thrusts as he lightly bit Harry’s ear. 

“Oh god.” Harry reached back with his right hand and grabbed Snape’s side as he tightened his left around Snape’s hand. He thrust forward into Snape’s fingers, riding Snape’s cock eagerly. Snape gave soft growl around Harry’s ear and wanked him faster. “Fuck!” Harry cried out as his body went taut. His orgasm rolled through him like waves and he came and came, his entire body pulsing with the after ripples. Snape moaned in his ear and released Harry’s dick to grab his hip and fuck him faster. He closed his mouth on Harry’s neck, lightly biting the skin there, as he neared his own orgasm. He held Harry tightly as he came, his fingers squeezing around Harry’s. 

Once Snape’s body had finished shaking, he carefully removed himself from Harry’s arse. He did not shift away however, remaining pressed firmly up against Harry’s back. Harry closed his eyes and rested in the embrace, holding Snape’s fingers between his own. He felt as relaxed and contented now as he had been on the drug. He wanted to stay there, wrapped in Snape’s arms, forever. 

They lay like that for several minutes before Harry broke the silence. “You will be there tomorrow?” 

“Yes. The Dark Lord and I will accompany you. No one else should be there, although undoubtedly there will be many who will try to gain favour so that they may be permitted to join us.” 

“Why?” 

“The world will see how high they are in his rank to be allowed with his most prized prisoner,” Snape explained. 

“What will we do if I mess up?” Harry asked, concerned. He hadn’t been able to master Occluding yet and he didn’t trust himself to rely completely on the evasion method. 

“You won’t,” Snape assured him. 

“But if I do?” Harry pressed. 

“Then we will pretend you were confused,” Snape answered easily. “I do not take unnecessary risks. I would not have suggested this particular scenario unless I was fully confident that we would be able to emerge victorious.” 

“Just tell me you have a backup plan.” 

“Of course I do,” responded Snape instantly. “I have much more to lose from this plan than you do.” 

“How?” 

“The worst that could happen as far as you are concerned is that he will learn that you are not broken. The worst that could happen as far as I am concerned is that you will reveal our plans and the Dark Lord will kill me.” Snape released Harry’s fingers and turned his hand around so that their palms were flush against each other. “Do I feel nervous to you?” 

Snape’s skin was as cool and dry as ever. “No.” 

“Aren’t Gryffindors supposed to be courageous? Don’t tell me you are scared.” 

“Hey!” Harry protested, shifting to a sitting position. “I’m not scared. I’m just wondering what we are going to do if I mess up. If they ask a yes or no question-” 

“They won’t,” Snape answered confidently, rolling onto his back. “They have a limited amount of time and will not want to ask dead end questions. I can always use _Langlock_ on you if it is needed.” 

“Why don’t you give me a potion that counteracts the effects of Veritaserum ahead of time?” 

“They might expect that and test for it. We want to completely convince them of your slavery. It is imperative that you and I are the only ones who know that you are anything other than a brainwashed slave.” 

Harry thought of the note he had sent to Ron and Hermione. He hadn’t said anything about working with Snape in it. As far as they knew, Snape was a fully fledged Death Eater. It was better that way. The less they knew, the more they were protected. “So then what happens? Once we pass this test.” 

Snape’s wand flew to him and he cast the cleaning spells. “It is best not to plan too far ahead. We shall see if this test will be enough to convince the Dark Lord. If not, then I will devise other ways for you to prove yourself to him.” He sat up and picked his y-fronts off the chair. 

“Your back…” Harry reached forward to touch the scar Snape had received during his absence from Harry. It was more pinkish than the rest of Snape’s back and felt smoother than the normal coloured areas around it. “Why hasn’t it healed? Did I not put enough healing potion on it?” 

Snape stood and grabbed his tee shirt, pulling it over his head quickly. “My body does not heal as quickly as yours and I did not continue the treatment as long as I should have.” 

“Why not?” Harry asked, watching Snape slide on his trousers. 

“What is one more scar among many?” Snape asked absently as his hands flickered over the buttons of his shirt. 

Harry watched him dress. He wore so many layers and kept himself tightly buttoned as if he were afraid he would suddenly be undressed. Harry remembered how reluctant he had been to remove his clothes in the practice room and how he had worn clothes even during sex until Harry insisted that he undress as well. Were Snape’s clothing concerns a response to the trick Harry’s father had played on him during his fifth year? Harry hoped that his father hadn’t removed Snape’s underpants. He couldn’t imagine how humiliating it must be to have one’s genitals exposed before classmates. 

Suddenly, Harry realised that they might take pictures at the interview. He sprang to his feet, startling Snape. “Are they going to take pictures of me?” 

“I assume so.” 

“Can I wear clothes?” he requested desperately. “I don’t want them to take pictures of me while I’m naked.” 

“I will see what I can do.” Snape finished arranging his clothes. “Sleep now. We shall return to training after the interview tomorrow.” 

“Okay.” 

Snape strode off, his robes billowing behind him. Harry crawled into his bed and pulled the covers over himself. If Snape was confident, then he would be too. If it came down to it, Snape could release Harry’s bonds and both of them could attack Voldemort. Snape didn’t seem the sort who would allow either of them to be killed without a fight. 

The combination of the potion and the sex left him very relaxed and he drifted off to sleep before long. [[ _I know this is a very short chapter but I view it as one of the most important ones in regards to the shifting of Harry and Snape's relationship. Let me know what you think! Please review._ ]] 


	37. Chapter 37

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


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[[I've been purchasing books on writing and I'm learning loads. I hope to have better chapters available for you.]]

“Wake up, Potter.” Harry sleepily blinked at Snape who entered his cell and spelled his breakfast. “Morning, already? When will they be here?” “At any time today. The Dark Lord was not specific. We will train with Veritaserum again after breakfast,” Snape said, drinking his tea as calm and unconcerned as ever. Harry nodded and took a sip of his orange juice. He had to admit Snape had nerves. The older wizard’s calm composure was infectious and Harry’s early morning worries melted away as he finished his breakfast. After clearing the dishes, Snape removed the Veritaserum and pulled his chair close to Harry’s. He sat with his knees touching Harry’s. “Try to Occlude against it without showing expression.” Harry stuck out his tongue and Snape carefully placed three drops on the tip. Harry looked at him and tried to remain as stiff as a corpse as he tightly shut his mind. Snape shook his head. “You still wear everything on your face. I fear it will take years to cure you of that habit.” “Probably,” Harry acknowledged. “Whom do you serve?” “My Master and the Death Eaters,” Harry answered easily. “Do you enjoy serving them?” “Yes, I like to obey my Masters.” “Do you have any plans to destroy the Dark Lord?” Snape continued. “No, I have no plans.” “Do you hate the Dark Lord?” “No.” Short answers were best. “Do you have any plans to escape?” “No, I belong here.” Snape suddenly stood. “The Dark Lord is here. Take this.” He thrust a potion into Harry’s hands. “I will be back.” He strode out quickly. Harry drank the potion and set the empty bottle back on the table. The effects of the Veritaserum faded away and he became alert as ever. He slid off his chair and began doing crunches as he waited for Snape to return. After a few minutes, Snape strode through the library door in hurried steps. “Get dressed, Potter.” Harry gratefully retrieved his clothing from under the mattress. “They’re here?” “Yes.” Snape stepped close to Harry and pressed his wand against his jaw. Harry felt the shaving spell race through his skin. “Close your eyes.” Harry shut them instantly, snapping them open again when something metallic touched the bridge of his nose: his glasses! “I can see!” He stared at Snape who looked quite different now that Harry could make out his features more clearly. His nose was still monstrous, and he would never be attractive to Harry, but the lines of his face were not as harsh as Harry had remembered. His hair was not as greasy as before, but it still fell lanky around his thin, sallow face. Harry idly wondered if he had finally learned how to bathe correctly after watching Harry in the bath so many times. Snape parted Harry’s fringe over his scar. “Do not meet their eyes. Focus on their feet or their mouths if they insist on looking at you.” “Right.” Harry nodded. “Follow me.” Snape walked away from Harry, leading him out of his cell. Harry stepped behind him, staring around at everything now that he had his glasses. Snape paused outside the practice room and Harry dropped to his hands and knees. His heart was beating fast, but he didn’t feel scared at all. The feeling was the same that he had felt before Quidditch matches: excitement, a bit of nerves, anticipation, and confidence. He and Snape were playing the most critical game of his life and it was all up to Harry now. Snape opened the door and Harry crawled through after him. The furniture in the room had been cleared and all that remained were Snape’s favourite chair, in which Voldemort rested, and seven kitchen chairs arranged in a half circle on the other side of the room. The interviewers were waiting for them, perched on the edge of the chairs. Harry heard gasps as he crawled in. He was dying to dart his eyes to his interviewers, but he kept them trained on Snape’s boots as he crawled after him. Snape strode over to Voldemort, placing himself to his left side with space between him and the throne. Harry crawled over, bowed to Voldemort and took up his position between them. He knelt with his head bent towards the carpet. He could just see the bottoms of the interviewers’ legs. The two on the left wore black robes which were draped over their feet. Sitting next to them was an individual with vivid blue robes and pointed shoes, who was probably female. Two black-clad individuals sat on her other side. The one on the right had thick boots protruding from under his robes. On the other side of him, an individual who wore dark green robes shifted impatiently. The one on the far right was dressed in flashy magenta. “Severus, a sample of his blood,” Voldemort commanded. Harry felt something cold and metallic press against his upper left arm. He held himself steady as his skin was pricked and blood flowed out. After a few seconds, the device was removed and Snape healed his upper arm. “Have you brought Veritaserum or shall we supply our own?” Voldemort asked. The interviewer on the far left shifted. “We have brought our own.” His voice was deep and even. “Severus,” Voldemort ordered and Snape crossed the room to the man who stood as well. Snape chanted and there was the soft clink of vials. Finally, Snape said, “it is pure Veritaserum, my Lord.” He returned to stand on the other side of Harry. “Cast the spells,” Voldemort ordered. The deep-voiced wizard began to cast spells on Harry that the young wizard assumed were meant to confirm what they saw before them really existed. Harry placidly sat, letting the magic wash over him even though the tingle of the spells left him feeling itchy. After several minutes, the deep-voiced wizard finished and sat back down, apparently confident that the individual before him was actually Harry Potter. “You may take photos of the slave now,” Voldemort said. From the tone of his voice, he sounded very pleased with himself. “It will be the only time I allow it.” Light flashed around Harry but he remained focused on the floor. In his boredom, his mind wandered and he wondered if they would stop torturing him after they thought he was broken. He dared not hope for it. After a few minutes, the flashes died down. They all sat in silence. Harry’s nose itched but he held himself frozen. Were they waiting for any Polyjuice Potion to wear off? He hoped not. He had never been good at sitting still for long periods of time. Snape finally broke the silence with, “It is time, my Lord.” “Give the slave the Veritaserum,” Voldemort ordered. Harry turned his head towards Snape and stuck out his tongue. Snape placed three drops on the tip. Harry turned his head back to stare at the interviewer's feet. The potion washed over him, but he didn't try to fight it, letting it take complete control over him. “You may question him now, and remember… if you ask anything that I do not approve of, you will be removed.” It wasn't clear from Voldemort's tone of voice if 'removed' meant killed or kicked from the room, but Harry knew it could be either. The one on the far left broke the silence first. “What is your name?” “Harry James Potter,” Harry answered automatically. They all shifted in their seats. The one second from the left spoke next. He had a slight accent Harry couldn’t place. “How long have you been their captive?” “I have no estimate of the passing of time.” The blue-clad woman followed. “How did you get captured?” “I have no memory of that event.” The black-robed individual beside her spoke next. “What have they done to you?” she asked, concern filling her voice. Harry took a deep breath to answer. “ _Langlock_.” Snape bound his tongue. “That would take far too long to answer. Slave, list three ways in which you have been tortured.” He released Harry’s tongue. “The skin was peeled from my chest. All my fingers were broken. I crawled across a floor of broken glass.” Gasps broke across the room and the one who had asked him the question gave a slight whimper. “You will no longer fight against… the Dark Lord?” The black-clad man to blue’s left asked. “I live only to serve my Masters’ wishes.” “Who are your Masters?” asked the man in green. “My Master and Professor Snape,” Harry answered. Oops. He wasn’t supposed to separate Snape from the other Death Eaters. Oh well, Snape was the Death Eater he interacted with most frequently. “Your friend, Hermione Granger, caught an animal in a jar at the end of her fourth year. What animal was that?” The magenta wearing woman was Rita Skeeter. “A beetle,” Harry said. “Who is your primary caretaker?” The man on the far left asked. “Professor Snape.” “Has anyone tried to rescue you?” “No one can rescue me. I belong here.” He was afraid that they would be hurt if they came. Voldemort was too powerful for Ron and Hermione to challenge. “Are you tortured all the time?” asked the woman in blue. “No, I do other things like sleep and eat.” What a stupid question. “Is, ah, Professor Snape a decent caretaker?” The woman next to her asked. “He hurts me sometimes.” Harry thought of how Snape had taken the memory and then attempted to lie to him about it. “But he’s not always bad. Sometimes he lets me sleep in the cupboard. And… it’s alright if he whips me. He does what he needs to do.” Harry hated it when Snape had to be cruel to him, but he understood it was sometimes necessary in order for the Potions Master to maintain his cover. Snape had never done anything that Harry hadn’t been able to recover from. “Is there anything you’d like to say to your supporters and friends?” “Take care of yourselves. Do not fight my Master.” If they tried to rescue him, they’d be killed for sure. He’d be fine. He and Snape would destroy Voldemort on their own. “Aren’t you angry that you are forced to kneel before the wizards who killed your parents and Professor Dumbledore?” the green-clad man asked. “I am pleased to do what my Masters wish me to do.” No one had forced him to kneel to Voldemort, he had chosen to do so in order to play his role. Right now, he wanted to convince all of them that he was broken. “How would your parents react to knowing that their sacrifice has amounted to this?” asked Rita Skeeter, her voice rife with accusation. “I know my parents wouldn’t be proud of me.” Harry hated to think what his dad thought about him being fucked by Snape. He hoped he couldn’t see him. “But I hope that they’d understand.” “Will you become a Death Eater?” They were on their third round. “I do not know what my Master has planned for me.” “You aren’t concerned that they will kill you?” “No. If it is required, then I will die.” As long as he knew that Voldemort would be destroyed, he would give his life. “Have you been allowed out at all?” the blue-clad woman asked. “No, I haven’t been outside at all.” “Do you miss your friends? Your loved ones?” The woman in black’s voice was quivery as if she was crying. Harry couldn’t understand why. It was all just an act. “Yes, terribly so, but they shouldn’t try to save me. I need to do this.” “If the Order were to rise up against the Dark Lord, would you aid them?” “If my Masters wish it.” He thought he and Snape would, but it depended on how successful they thought the Order would be. It was probably better for them if he and Snape did as much as they could on their own. “What news do you get of the outside world?” “Almost none at all.” “There were many who were convinced you would destroy the Dark Lord. It was said that you were the so-called ‘Chosen One.’ What do you have to say to those who had high hopes for you?” Rita asked. “I wish I could be what they want me to be but I can’t.” He couldn’t just go before Voldemort and say _Avada Kedavra_ and kill him without a wand or magic. He didn’t have that kind of power. If he knew how, he would have already done it. “I believe that I should obey Professor Snape.” Snape had a very solid plan for defeating Voldemort and the other Death Eaters. Harry was confident that they could pull it off by working together. Snape may be a manipulative bastard, but he couldn’t force Harry to act against his will. “I wish he wouldn’t hurt me, but I’m not going to leave.” This was the path he had chosen for himself. He felt confident that he would be able to emerge victorious. “That will be all,” Voldemort announced. “You have seen him for over an hour so you can be assured he is not the product of Polyjuice. Severus, return him to his cage.” “Yes, my Lord.” Snape turned on his heel. Harry bowed to Voldemort and then padded after Snape without being prompted. The black-clad woman sobbed and Harry wanted to assure her that he would be fine, but he held his tongue. Snape closed the door behind him and Harry remained on his knees while he crawled back to his cell. Snape was silent as he walked ahead of Harry. He didn’t look back, but he paused when Harry faltered on the stairs. As soon as the library door closed, Snape turned back to Harry. “Stand,” he ordered. Harry climbed to his feet. “I’m glad you stopped that question. I didn’t want to tell her about the rape. I passed, right?” Snape put his finger under Harry’s chin, tilting up his head. He stepped in close, so that the edges of his robes touched Harry’s clothing. His black eyes searched Harry’s. “You are still under the Veritaserum.” “Yes.” “You were under it for the entire interview.” “Of course,” Harry said. Wasn’t it obvious? “That was a very short interview. I thought it would be longer.” “Why did Rita Skeeter ask the question about the beetle?” asked Snape. “She’s an Animagus. That’s how she was spying on everyone during my fourth year. Hermione caught her and put her in a jar. She was very angry.” He grinned. Snape continued gazing at Harry. Then, abruptly, he released him and plunked the glasses from his nose. The world became fuzzy again. “In your cage. I must return to the Dark Lord.” Harry stepped through the bars which straightened again after he had passed through. Snape swept off. Harry sprawled out on his mattress. He felt fairly confident that he had passed this particular test. He couldn’t wait for Snape to return so they could start planning their next move. Maybe they could find some secret way to contact the Order and give them suggestions on where to find the last Horcrux. When Snape hadn’t returned after a few minutes, Harry figured that he would be held up for a while and pulled out his book from under the mattress. Trying to read gave him a slight headache so he stopped before it got worse and lay with his head towards the door, waiting for Snape. Snape finally returned, striding in through the door in a cloud of black. “The Dark Lord has left. He was very pleased with the interview.” He spelled lunch on the table for both of them. “So what’s our next move?” Harry put down his book and slid into his seat. Snape had prepared a feast for him. In addition to a thick slab of roast beef which was drizzled in gravy, Snape had served him mash, and a green bean casserole. Two ice cream covered treacle tarts finished off the meal and Harry eagerly attacked those first. Snape wouldn’t have given him his favourite food unless he had passed. “‘We’ won’t do anything but wait,” Snape answered as he delicately cut up his own chunk of meat which was considerably smaller than Harry’s. “We do not know if your display was enough to convince him, so it would be prudent to allow him to see you in that role a few more times before we attempt anything, however slight.” “Unless we find and destroy the Horcruxes first,” Harry reminded him. “Of course,” Snape said. “It will be best to allow him to devise tests for you rather than suggesting further ones. If I appear too eager to have you tested, he will become suspicious.” “I can’t wait till when we can finally kill him.” Harry finished the first tart and started on the second. Snape remained focused on his meal. After they finished, Snape cleared the dishes. “Shall we go to the practice room?” “Yeah. Can we do the one where I try to hit you and you try to hit me?” Harry asked as he stripped and followed Snape out of his cell. “‘May,’ Potter,” Snape corrected. “Just for that I think you should be blindfolded.” “Oh come on… are you scared you are going to lose?” Harry darted ahead of him to the room. “If you want to blindfold me, you have to hit me!” He barely managed to dodge the _Obscuro_ Snape sent racing towards him as he ran into the practice room. It had been set for training, and as soon as he stepped through the doorway, the balls rose up from one corner, all darting towards him at once. Harry yelped and barely managed to find cover behind the big sofa. “Hit me with the spell!” “Admitting defeat already, Potter?” Snape asked silkily as the balls flew back to the wall and then began their normal mode of attack. “And you call yourself a Gryffindor…” “You wish!” Harry darted from behind the sofa to the side of the short bookcase. He snatched a ball from the air once he was hidden from Snape’s vision. “I have more bravery in my little finger than the entire house of Slytherin.” “Stupidity, you mean,” Snape countered as he approached from the side and sent a rapid fire of _Obscuros_ at Harry. Harry barely managed to twist out of the way, flinging his ball at Snape as he wove his way across the room. Snape ducked and tried to catch Harry by sending spells under a chair, but Harry had anticipated that attack and dove towards the cabinet. “You can’t convince me that Crabbe and Goyle are smarter than me. I Polyjuiced into Goyle my second year and I swear I lost a few brain cells just from being him for an hour.” He plucked two more balls from the air and worked his way over to a short, squat sofa that Snape couldn’t send spells under. “It’s amazing how you can live with only a brain stem.” Snape strode over to attack him from the side. “I should dissect you after your death so that we all may learn how an individual can function without a cerebral cortex.” Harry jumped up and lobbed the balls at Snape, almost hitting him in the leg. “It counts if I hit you on some part of your robes.” “It has to be a strike that would kill or disable a Death Eater,” Snape argued as he sent spells in front of Harry, momentarily confusing him. “You should take off your clothes,” Harry said as he shoved over a table to use as a shield. “It-” “Why Potter, I never knew,” Snape drawled. “Shut up!” Harry protested, heat spreading across his cheeks. “I _meant_ that you should undress so that the contest would be more equal.” “I’m training _you_ ,” Snape insisted. “You won’t be going before naked Death Eaters.” “You need to train too.” Harry dodged Snape’s spells with ease. “You’ve become slow in your old age.” “Slow? I’m not the one who has had to cheat to win, Potter,” Snape said. Harry remained quiet as he stealthily worked his way closer to Snape. “Hiding again? Face me like a man.” Harry held his tongue, watching Snape walk around the room as he searched for Harry. “It’s a good thing you are so small. Otherwise you wouldn’t be able to hide so efficiently.” Harry was going to get him for that. He waited until Snape stepped to look behind the cabinet close to him and then jumped out, darting forward with his shoulder down. Snape realised what Harry was trying to do and shot a spell at his legs as he dashed to the side. Harry had to roll to avoid being hit and Snape made his escape. “Resorting to physical attacks? How typically Gryffindor.” “I almost had you!” Harry headed back to the table. “Don’t overestimate your chances.” Snape began sending spells on either side of him, preventing him from crossing the room with ease. Harry finally managed to duck behind the table. “Really…how will you ever defeat me if you insist on hiding?” Harry caught balls heading towards him, tucking them in his left arm. “I’m not going to let you see what I’m planning.” “I wasn’t aware you had room in that minuscule brain of yours for anything but food, sex, and Quidditch.” Harry jumped up and lobbed the balls at Snape. Snape was not quick enough to dodge them all, so he summoned a shield charm for the one that would’ve hit him. “That was an _Avada Kedavra_! You can’t use a shield charm against _Avada Kedavras_!” Harry protested as he ducked back behind the table. “It was the most pathetic _Avada Kedavra_ I’ve ever seen,” Snape retorted. “Now stop hiding or I will make you curse the day you were born.” “Make me,” Harry said. All the furniture disappeared and Harry barely managed to dodge the volley of balls and spells that raced towards him. “You cheat! You always cheat!” “And this surprises you?” Snape arched an eyebrow at him. “I think you would’ve learned by now.” “Of course I’ve learned by now, you git,” Harry said. “That’s why your little trick didn’t work. I haven’t been hit.” “I like to go easy on you at first, to lull you into complacency.” Snape increased the number of balls that attacked Harry at once. “It’s amusing how you think you will win against me.” Harry put up his fists. “Make us equal and I will win.” “You’ve finally realised you will never have your request? What was it anyway? It’s been so long since you’ve won I don’t remember.” Snape smirked at him. “You have to cook my favourite foods for a week,” Harry reminded him as he weaved around the room. Without the furniture, he couldn’t attack Snape very easily, but he could dodge nearly anything Snape sent at him. “I think you should clean your cell again,” Snape mused. “It hasn’t been cleaned for a while.” “You’d have to hit me first.” Harry dodged out of the way of three balls and slammed into an invisible barrier. “What the-?” Snape’s _Obscuro_ hit him in the side and the world went black. “YOU CHEATED!” “There were never any restrictions placed on my magic usage.” Snape’s voice floated to him from across the room. “That was cheating,” Harry said as he slowly walked over to where he thought Snape stood. He ran smack into one of the bookcases. “You bastard! You returned the furniture!” Snape’s voice was full of amusement. “Of course I did.” “Right. You had your fun. Take the spell off now,” Harry requested. When Snape didn’t respond, Harry carefully felt his way over to where Snape had last stood. “Snape?” Harry listened, but he couldn’t hear the other man’s breathing. “Snape?” He tried smelling him, but his sense of smell had never been good. He paused, listening as best he could. Snape suddenly grabbed him from behind, circling one arm around his chest to hold him in place as he pressed his wand against Harry’s throat. Harry’s heart leapt up into his throat when the arm closed around him, but he recognised Snape by his smell and forced his body to still instead of attack. “It is poor strategy to announce your presence to your enemy,” Snape said, his words, deep and soft, stirring up hair near Harry's ear. Harry’s heart beat faster than it had during the entire training session and his mouth went dry. The way Snape was holding him reminded him of the previous night and he began to harden. “I can see that now,” he somehow managed to say, his throat tight. Snape’s left index finger pressed just below his right nipple. If he moved it up a little bit, he’d touch it. Would he touch it? Harry’s penis thickened at that thought and he desperately wished that Snape would slide up his finger ever so slightly and caress it over Harry’s now stiff nipple. Then he’d take Harry’s penis with his other hand, his long fingers curling around Harry’s cock as he slowly wanked him. Oh god, could Snape tell he was getting hard? He didn’t want Snape to think he wanted him. He wanted Snape to stop. He wanted Snape to continue. He shifted to try to hide his growing erection, wishing that Snape would do _something_. “ _Finite Incantatem_.” Snape released him and walked away. Relief and disappointment stormed through Harry and he wasn’t sure which was stronger. He turned to watch Snape who paused by the door. “Coming, Potter?” he asked, his voice as cool and smooth as ever. Harry shook himself and followed after Snape. He really needed to get out of here and have sex with Ginny. He had spent so long with Snape, his body was confused. Snape led him to the bathroom, taking his customary seat and pulling out his book. Harry did not try to talk to him as he washed himself off. He wasn’t sure what had just happened. Snape had been very casual with him up until the moment when he had grabbed him. Now, he was acting as cool and formal as ever. Had he seen Harry’s penis thicken? Harry’s face burned and he stared at the taps. He was a teenager. It didn’t take much to make him harden. He wanted to say something to assure Snape that he hadn’t hardened because Snape touched him, but he was too embarrassed to call attention to it in case Snape hadn’t seen in it, and Harry had imagined his change in demeanour. When Harry had finished bathing, Snape was still engrossed in his book and didn’t step forward to help Harry with the potion like he normally did. Fuck. He probably had seen it and thought Harry was gay. He wasn’t. Harry held his towel tightly at his waist as he walked back to his cell. Snape procured dinner for him. “I must brew. We shall resume our regular training session tomorrow,” Snape informed him in a brisk, businesslike tone. “Okay.” Harry nodded, staring at his dinner. He heard Snape walk off. Harry stabbed his beef stew with his spoon. It wasn’t as if he wanted to have sex with Snape. Snape was ugly, and a bloke, and a Death Eater, and mean. Unfortunately, Snape was the only person he could have sex with right now who wouldn’t try to make him cry, or Polyjuice him into a girl, or do countless other humiliating acts. Besides, Snape had wanted it. He had wanted him. If Snape tried to embarrass him over the fact that he had gotten hard, then he could just point out that Snape had already been mostly hard when he had pressed against Harry last night. Thinking about the sex made Harry harden even more and he tried to focus on his meal. After he had finished preparing for bed, he pulled out _The Joy of Gay Sex_ and reread the section on prison sex. The book did not directly say if it was normal for straight blokes to be aroused by gay sex in prison, but it certainly implied it. After all, at least one partner had to be hard to have sex and the book said that having sex in prison was no indicator of homosexual leanings. He read the chapter on gay relationships to search for more clues. The book said that one way in which homosexual relationships differed from heterosexual relationships is that there were no defined roles for either partner. Normally, heterosexual females engaged in the receptive role because of their biology and it was expected of them by society. Heterosexual males likewise typically engaged in penetration for similar reasons. Homosexuals weren’t as heavily confined by such constructs and typically were more fluid in expressions of their sexuality.* It said that bottoming should not be equated with being weak, passive, or feminine and argued that the bottom could have more control over sex than the top. It was hard to believe that at first, but when Harry thought about it, he realised that it was true. After all, he didn’t expect to control or dominate Ginny during sex with her. If anything, he hoped that she would take control of it for their first time so that he didn’t hurt her. Besides, he had been able to trick Snape into giving him head but he had never had to give it in return. He didn’t need to penetrate Snape to be in control of sex with him. He had had power and he hadn’t even known it. Intrigued, he read the next chapter which was on romance. The book said that homosexuality wasn’t about with whom you had sex, but with whom you fell in love. No, he wasn’t gay. It wasn’t like he was in _love_ with Snape. The idea of getting married to the man (or any man in general) was ridiculous. He thought of holding hands with Snape and laughed. Snape would be more likely to hex him permanently blind than walk around in public with him hand in hand. Likewise, the idea of ever saying ‘I love you’ to Snape or hearing it back in return was quite laughable. Harry figured he should say it to him once just to make him lose his step during one of their contests. He’d probably have to run like hell afterwards to avoid being killed, but it would be worth it to see the horrified expression on Snape’s face. Harry closed the book and returned it to under the mattress. It was okay to like gay sex and even receptive gay sex with Snape. It wouldn’t make him feminine or gay even if he did want it. It was Ginny he loved. He had only ever loved girls. Ron was his mate and he cared for him, but the affection he felt for him was similar to the type he felt for Hermione and he had never wanted to date Hermione. _Hermione_. Harry sighed. Snape still hadn’t proven to Harry that she hadn’t been killed, but Harry wouldn’t hold his breath waiting. He didn’t expect Snape to bring him anything. He understood now that Snape was a prisoner here almost as much as he. Harry pulled the sheets up over himself and closed his eyes. He should focus on how wonderfully he had withstood the questioning. He could tell Snape had been very pleased with his performance even if the git wouldn’t say so directly. His heart was light as he drifted off to sleep. 

[[I just want to clarify that this is what the book claims and not what I, as the author, believe. While this is generally true for most modern homosexuals in industrial, western countries; in most societies that had homosexuality a regular pattern or an acceptable alternative, the relationships were bound by constructs just as most heterosexual relationships are. There are very few societies where rules and social norms concerning sexual activity do not occur. However, explaining variations of constructs of male/male sexual activity in cultures and how just because a construct exist doesn’t mean that it is followed in all cases would just be too confusing and detailed for poor Harry.

Please review!]] 


	38. Chapter 38

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


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[[ _I'm terribly sorry for how long this took. I've been busy with the election matters. I wasn't going to get involved, but then I couldn't stay away. Now that it's over, I should have more time to write!_ ]]

Harry dreamt Ginny was rubbing his crotch in Potions class.

“Snape will see,” he hissed, his eyes focused on Snape’s back as the Potions Master wrote on the blackboard. 

“No he won’t,” Ginny purred, pulling down the zip on Harry’s trousers. She eased Harry’s hard cock out slowly.

“Oh god,” Harry breathed, clutching the table for support. Ginny’s hand slowly stroked up and down his shaft. He kept his eyes focused on Snape as she worked him just the way he liked it. She started twisting her hand near the top and Harry could not help but let out a moan of appreciation. Snape turned around and stalked over to him all the while Ginny kept working him.

“Are you paying attention, Potter?” Snape glared at him.

“Yes,” he barely managed to grind out. He glanced over at Ginny, but she was no longer sitting beside him. He felt a hot mouth around his dick and realised she had crawled under the table to give him head. He hoped Snape wouldn’t notice her absence. He had no idea how he would explain it. 

Luckily, Snape returned to the front of the classroom and started lecturing again. Ginny was moaning around his cock and Harry put his finger to his lip as he stared down at her.

“Quiet! He’ll hear you!” 

“He can’t take what’s mine.” She deep-throated him and his eyes rolled back in his head. Fuck! It was amazing! 

“Ginny!” he gasped, thrusting into her mouth.

He woke suddenly, finding himself humping the mattress. He quickly looked around for the source of the disturbance, but didn’t find anything out of the ordinary. His dick was pulsing with excitement. Harry rolled onto his back and wrapped three fingers around the tip. He imagined they were Ginny’s mouth and continued the dream manually. She’d take him in all the way. All the way down to the root. God, she had been so eager to suck his cock. 

“Ginny….” She’d suck him all the way too, no pulling off at the last second like with Snape. She’d suck him off and then swallow his spunk and- “Fuck!” His hand jerked faster and his breath caught in his throat as pressure built and built and then he was coming, catching his semen in his left hand as he emptied himself with thorough strokes. It was nice, but he wanted more. Since he hadn’t been injured during his last encounter with Voldemort, he’d probably be getting sex today. Maybe he could convince Snape to give him head again. Maybe he could even get Snape to kneel down before him like Ginny had in the dream. That’d be really hot.

Harry slid out of bed and trudged over to the sink to clean himself. Snape would probably ask for his blowjob today. Harry wasn’t too concerned about giving it. He could just use his hands a lot if it tasted nasty or something.

Snape walked in as he was washing his hands. 

“I was thinking that I should practise aiming while dodging again since it’s what I most need to work on,” Harry suggested as he dried off his hands and approached the table where food had been set out for him. 

“I agree.” Snape took his chair and summoned tea. “Perhaps we may need to set up an exercise in which you aim at a single fast moving target.”

“Yeah, I think that’ll help.” Harry nodded. He jokingly added, “Having my glasses would help too.”

“I intend to give them to you today,” Snape told him.

“Brilliant. You should give them to me so I can read without having to put the books right next to my face.” He dug into his bangers and mash.

Snape arched his eyebrow at him.

Harry shrugged in response. “You’re good at breaking rules without getting caught. Which reminds me … I want to see your owl again. I liked her.”

“She was rather taken with you,” Snape admitted.

“Really?”

“You gave her six treats. I haven’t given her that many in the entire time I’ve owned her.” 

“You should!” Harry attacked his bacon. “She deserves them.”

“She is on a diet.” Snape watched Harry eat. “If she had your metabolism then perhaps I would.”

Harry finished his meal as fast as he could and rushed through his morning routine. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Snape stepped out through the bars and walked upstairs. Harry trotted after him eagerly. “So how are we going to find the last Horcrux if we are both stuck in here?”

“Have you no faith in Granger and Weasley?” Snape asked as he walked towards the throne room.

“I just think that I should be helping them. I mean … what if they can’t find it on their own?” Harry stepped through after him. The room was empty except for its normal sparse furnishing. Harry ran over to Voldemort’s throne chair and plopped down in it.

“Get out of the chair,” Snape said, shooting a death glare at Harry.

He couldn’t aim very well in it anyway, so he returned to Snape. “This is my least favourite room. If I ever lived here I’d convert it to something completely different.”

“Why would you ever reside here?” Snape gave him an odd look as he handed Harry his glasses and the laser pointer.

Harry slipped his glasses on and stared around the room with interest now that he could make it out clearly. It looked exactly as how he had pictured it. “I dunno. Sometimes I dream that I live here with Ginny.” And Snape, but he sure as hell wouldn’t admit that to Snape. 

Snape stepped away from him and summoned a ball. He enchanted it, then sent it whizzing off along the walls. “I will add more after you learn how to target this one efficiently.”

“Alright.” Harry moved to the centre of the room and followed the path of the ball with his eyes. It was moving incredibly fast, faster than any human could move. Snape stepped onto the dais and assumed the seat to the right side of the throne. He removed a book from his robes and began to read, ignoring Harry.

“How’ll you know that I’ve done it unless you look at me?” Harry asked him.

“Potter, if you cheat you will only be hurting yourself,” Snape answered without taking his eyes from the book.

“And you,” Harry reminded him as he returned to targeting. He had assumed that his proficiency would be greatly improved once his glasses had been returned to him, but he was only slightly better than he had been before. After about a half hour, he thought he hit the ball, but nothing happened. “How will I know if I hit it?”

“You’ll know,” Snape assured him, turning another page of his book.

Harry sighed and sat on the ground. There was no sense in standing for hours after all. He hated aiming. Dodging was a million times better than aiming. He probably wouldn’t even have a wand anyway. He listlessly shot at the ball for a moment before a wave of guilt washed over him. What was he doing? Hermione and Ron needed him to practise as much as he possibly could in as many different forms of combat as he could. Once they found and destroyed the last Horcrux, he’d have to be ready to go before Voldemort.

Harry got to his feet and focused all of his attention on aiming. He’d master this lesson and he’d do it soon. He tried to estimate where the ball would move to next and aim ahead of it rather than aiming behind it. It was rather difficult to do because the ball did not appear to move in any discernable patterns. Finally, Harry managed to land a hit and it fell to the floor. “I did it!”

Snape flicked his wand without looking up from his book and the ball began to race around the room again. “Again.”

Harry resolutely turned back to aiming. If he did it once, he could do it again. He was on his fourth round when Snape suddenly stood.

“Someone is here.” He vanished the ball and then sent a hamper of cleaning supplies to Harry. Harry caught the hamper, watching as Snape strode towards the massive main doors. It was too soon for him to be tortured, right? He pulled out a cloth and pretended to be rubbing the floor clean.

The main doors opened and Narcissa Malfoy stepped in dressed in black robes. Snape smiled at her. Harry was so shocked by that action that he dropped his cloth. Snape smiling? It wasn’t the fake smiling he sometimes did either, where his eyes remained unchanged while his lips curled. Snape appeared genuinely happy to see her. He had never smiled at Harry like that, not even when Harry had performed exceptionally well. Snape crossed the room and clasped her offered hand in his. “What a pleasant surprise!* What brings you here?”

Harry stared at them. Snape _hated_ the other Death Eaters and they hated him! Why the hell was he being so friendly to Narcissa? 

Narcissa glanced at Harry, her eyes filled with pity for him. Snape followed her gaze and flicked his wand. _Muffliato_ prevented Harry from hearing anymore of their conversation. What was Snape hiding from him? They turned back towards each other and Narcissa began to speak. Harry would’ve given anything to hear what she was saying. Her face had an expression of concern as if she were upset. Snape responded to her comments with the same face he used when he was trying to assure Harry of something. She stepped closer to him and began to speak again when Snape brought up his hand. He spoke a few words and she nodded. Snape turned away from her and strode over to Harry. He motioned with his fingers for Harry to stand as he released _Muffliato_. 

Harry set down the cloth and stood, casting a glance back at Narcissa as Snape stepped past him. He knew he was supposed to follow Snape, but he was dying to remain in the throne room and learn why Narcissa had visited Snape. He turned, following Snape out the door. As soon as it was closed behind him, he said, “What was-”

“ _Langlock_!” Snape grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back to his cell. “She could’ve heard you speak. You are a slave. Remember that.” He roughly pushed Harry through the bars and then immediately turned to leave.

Harry watched him go, completely bewildered. It was unlike Snape to remove him from the room during a conversation with a Death Eater. What was Snape discussing with Narcissa that was so private, Harry couldn’t even watch them discuss it? Harry climbed on his bed. He still had the laser pointer and his glasses. It was unlike Snape to forget to take items back from him after the training sessions. Harry felt a bit guilty wearing the glasses in his cell. He knew Snape would get in trouble if he was found to be in possession of them, so he took them off and placed them under his pillow with the laser pointer. 

He lay on the mattress wishing that he had Extendable Ears. What the hell were they talking about? Harry remembered how he had overheard Snape talking to someone in his bedroom. Was Snape having an affair with Narcissa Malfoy? It explained why Snape and Lucius seemed to always be at each other’s throats now when they had appeared to be friendly while Harry was at Hogwarts. No, if Lucius knew, he’d probably kill Snape. Unless Voldemort forbade him. Or Lucius didn’t know but suspected.

Harry slid off the bed to exercise. Snape sleeping with Narcissa … the thought made his chest tighten as he filled with anger. If Harry couldn’t have straight sex then Snape shouldn’t either. It wasn’t fair. Did Narcissa know that Snape was having sex with Harry? Maybe that was why Snape removed him from the room. Harry should tell her. If she knew then she wouldn’t want to have sex with him anymore. Harry definitely would tell her. 

He exercised until his muscles began to hurt. He washed himself off in the sink when he was finished. He was annoyed with Snape for being gone such a long time. If they weren’t going to focus on finding the Horcruxes then he should be training as much as possible. Harry wasn’t sure he was ready to give up on the Horcruxes yet. He trusted Ron and Hermione to do their best, but he didn’t want to rely entirely on them. Dumbledore had given him the task of destroying the Horcruxes and he really should confirm they were all destroyed before he went before Voldemort. 

They may not be able to physically hunt them down, but they could still theorise various places where they might be hidden and puzzle over the other mysteries Dumbledore left behind. Maybe Snape would help him uncover the mysteries of the Deathly Hallows. 

The Deathly Hallows! Harry bolted upright. It was as if a door had been opened in his mind. He remembered the visit with Mr. Lovegood and how Voldemort had been searching for the Elder Wand. What if he had found it? The Resurrection Stone had been hidden inside his Snitch which had been resting in his pouch. Had it been destroyed? Did Voldemort still have it? The last memory Harry had of his invisibility cloak was of Hermione carefully placing it inside her beaded bag. Did she still have it? What if he had taken it back before the night he was captured? If Voldemort had all three Hallows then he might be invincible, even if he didn’t know what they were. All their planning could be for naught. Snape should be discussing the Deathly Hallows and Horcruxes with Harry and instead he was off fucking around with Narcissa. It pissed Harry off. 

He was still annoyed when Snape returned. He scurried to the edge of the bed when Snape opened the library door. “What were you talking to her about?”

“That’s none of your concern,” Snape said as he stepped through the bars and approached the table.

“Were you talking about me?” Harry persisted.

“What part of ‘that is none of your concern’ did you not understand?” Snape arched an eyebrow as he tapped the table with his wand.

“If you are making plans without me I should know.”

“I already said that it was none of your concern. If you continue to pester me with questions I will leave and you will not train again until tomorrow,” Snape threatened.

Harry folded his arms. “D’you want Voldemort destroyed or not?” 

“I want you to learn when to keep your mouth shut. How many times have I told you not to speak-”

“You’ve talked to me outside that door!” 

“After I used magic to prevent others from overhearing!”

“No! I was there! You never cast a spell!”

Snape adopted the standard expression of contempt that Harry had come to despise. “So … if I don’t cast a spell in front of you then there is no possibility that it was ever cast?” 

“Well, maybe you should say these things instead of just assuming I can read your mind,” Harry protested, throwing up his hands. “I thought the doors were thick.” 

“Not as thick as you, obviously.”

Harry gritted his teeth. “Why are you being such an arsehole? It’s almost like you are looking for excuses not to train me.” 

“Of course not. You need to learn discipline. I will not train an individual who-”

“It’s not just about training!” Harry interrupted. “What about the Deathly Hallows? If Voldemort gets a hold of all of them, he will be the master of Death! You-”

“Master of Death?” Snape’s expression instantly changed from angry to curious.

“Yeah. If he gets all the Deathly Hallows then it may be impossible to kill him even if we destroy the Horcruxes,” Harry explained. 

“Explain.” Snape took his chair. 

“Professor Dumbledore gave Hermione a book that contained the legend of the Deathly Hallows. Mr. Lovegood said that whoever possessed all three items, the Invisibility Cloak, the Resurrection Stone, and the Elder Wand would become the master of Death. When I could see what Voldemort saw, he was hunting the Elder Wand. I had the Resurrection Stone in my pouch and I can’t remember-”

“Resurrection Stone? You had the Resurrection Stone?” Snape broke in.

“Yes. Dumbledore gave it to me. It was in my Snitch which I had in my bag.”

“Wait here.” Snape strode off. Harry perched on the edge of his bed as he waited. 

Snape returned, holding the Snitch in his hand.

“You have it!” Harry nearly fell off the bed. “But you said-”

“He destroyed what he did not keep,” Snape nodded. “He did not destroy this. It was given to me as a trophy.” He pressed it into Harry’s hands. “Open it, retrieve the Stone.”

“I can’t.” Harry shook his head. He pressed it to his lips. “See … _I open at the close._ I don’t know what that means.” He handed it back to Snape.

Snape's cold fingers brushed against Harry as he took it back. His eyes were transfixed on the Snitch and he didn’t appear to have heard Harry. When he spoke, it was as if he were speaking to himself. “…bring back the dead….”

Harry frowned. “I don’t think it works like that. I mean, my mum and dad came back in the graveyard, but it wasn’t really them, you know? In the story Dumbledore gave us, a bloke tried to bring his love back but she was miserable because she wasn’t really alive. When he realised that he couldn’t be with her that way, he killed himself.”

“I see,” Snape said, his eyes losing their look of intense concentration. He still held the Snitch tightly, turning it over slowly. “Yet, the phrase ‘Master of Death’-”

“If you had all three then that’s what you’d become. But where is my cloak?” Harry asked.

“I believe Miss Granger is in possession of it,” Snape answered, still not lifting his eyes from the Snitch. 

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. “The Elder Wand? I think Dumbledore had it. He duelled-” 

“The Dark Lord still searches for it. Someone broke into Dumbledore’s tomb and removed the Wand.”

Harry frowned. “I didn’t think anyone else knew about that except for Voldemort, Ron, Hermione and me. Hermione didn’t believe the story either. D’you think they took it?”

“It is possible." Snape was still focused on the Snitch, the expression on his face one Harry had never seen before. Abruptly his expression changed back to his normal cool disinterest and he pocketed the Snitch. “I will research this story. Where are the glasses and the laser pointer?”

Harry scooted to the other end of the bed and lifted the pillow. “What about the rest of the items in my pouch?” He figured the Marauder’s Map, the remains of Sirius’s mirror, and the letter from his mum had been destroyed, but there was the possibility that his photo album remained. If the Snitch had survived as a trophy, then surely the photo album had been given away too. Voldemort had to have kept the remains of his wand. He’d get them back. 

“ _Accio glasses_.” Snape caught them and tucked them in his pocket with the Snitch. “I only have possession of the Snitch. You will practise aiming in your cell.” He turned to leave.

“I also want to look at the books,” Harry protested.

“I can’t have you near magical books,” Snape told him. “Focus on aiming for now.” He summoned three balls and enchanted them to zoom around the walls before leaving quickly.

Harry trudged over to the table. His food had gone cold during their discussion. He stirred up his stew as he thought. Voldemort didn’t have any of the Hallows. That was great news for Harry. However, who would’ve taken the Wand from Dumbledore’s tomb? As much as Harry admired Ron and Hermione, he was very doubtful that they had been responsible. After all, Hermione had been very dismissive of the legend as anything other than a fairy tale. He supposed it didn’t matter who took it as much as it mattered that Voldemort did not currently possess it. 

After finishing his meal, Harry pushed the chairs and table to the side so that he could aim while in the centre. He was dying to go into the library and join Snape. What was he learning? He had faith that Snape would repeat everything to him once the older wizard finished reading but he didn’t want to wait. What if Snape overlooked something? Maybe there was a clue that only Harry would recognise. Harry realised that he hadn’t been aiming at all and scolded himself. That would wait. He should focus on training for now. 

Harry turned back to the balls and targeting them with finesse. It wasn’t long before he managed to knock all three down. He returned to his bed and pressed his ear to the wall, trying to hear into the library. Nothing. He was bored. He slid off the bed so that he could lift up his mattress and examine his books. He finally picked up _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_ , but he wasn’t very interested in reading it. He’d rather exercise, but he was hoping to have a training session that involved dodging or trying to hit Snape, so he didn’t want to wear himself out. It was either read or wank. 

He lay on his bed and opened the book to the spot he had left off on. He tried to read it, but he just couldn’t concentrate. Wanking it was! Harry returned the book to under the bed and rolled onto his back. It was probably best to wank before he had sex. Then Snape could give him head and he wouldn’t have to worry about orgasming twice. Harry slowly stroked himself as he thought about the Hallows. Without the Elder Wand, Voldemort was a far less formidable opponent. He wasn’t too worried even if Voldemort did obtain the Elder Wand. He had the feeling that as long as he learned to dodge proficiently, he would be fine.

“Nothing beyond which we already know,” Snape said as he stepped through the library door. Harry flipped himself over onto his stomach as if he had been struck with lightning. His heart was pounding, but he tried to appear calm and casual. 

“You already read through all your books?” Harry gaped at him, trying to ignore his erection which was pressed into the mattress. 

Snape was oblivious to Harry’s discomfort. “I did not possess many that spoke of fairy tales of the wizarding world. I looked for other sources, but even of those I find myself lacking. I intend to send an order with Strix in the morning.”

“Oh, I see,” said Harry, trying to will his erection down.

“Come along, you will work on dodging now.” 

Harry thought of the grossest things he could think of while he slid off the bed and walked after Snape, hiding his arousal as best he could behind his hands. Thankfully, he was mostly flaccid by the time they reached the practice room which had been cleared of furniture. 

“You will attempt to dodge a large number of projectiles at once. Move to the centre of the room.”

Harry walked across the carpet and stretched while Snape set up the exercise. Immediately, nine balls and a spell raced towards him. Harry barely managed to twist out of the way. They reached the opposite wall and joined the others. Normally another set would’ve attacked Harry shortly after he dodged the first, so Harry turned to look at Snape in confusion. A round shot at him while he was distracted and he was hit on the arm by a ball. Harry realised what Snape was trying to train him to do and began watching the walls expectedly. Sometimes the balls took minutes between volleys and other times it was almost instantaneous. Harry was hit several times near the beginning but he soon learned to always keep his guard up and he remained error free for an hour before Snape stopped the exercise. 

“Focus on hiding your emotions,” Snape ordered as he returned the furniture. “It is obvious when you anticipate an attack.”

“I’ll stare at the floor around them-”

“Potter-” Snape began to growl.

“-until I get it right,” Harry clarified.

Snape nodded his approval. 

“D’you think that the legend of the Deathly Hallows is real?” Harry asked as he followed Snape down the stairs.

“It matters not. The Dark Lord believes at least part of it, which makes it our concern. We should assume it is fact and plan accordingly. If it is not, then we may delay our plans by a currently unknown amount of time. However, if it is real, then to ignore it may result in the destruction of all our plans." 

“Yeah … I don’t see why Professor Dumbledore would’ve given us the book unless he wanted me to learn about it for some reason.”

“The Headmaster had his faults, but he was far from the senile old fool he sometimes portrayed himself to be,” Snape agreed. 

Harry soaped himself up. “Why d’you think Dumbledore gave me the Resurrection Stone but didn’t give me more clues on how to use it? Am I even supposed to use it? Or is it just something I should possess in case I manage to get all three Hallows at once?”

“Potter, I know you trust the Headmaster to have acted in your best interest, but that may not be wise. He hadn’t always considered your welfare first. And indeed, some of his-”

“I know,” Harry interrupted. “I read about his involvement with Grindewald and the mystery of his little sister. But … when I was hiding after Voldemort tortured me, Dumbledore came to me and he told me that I should trust you, because you would help me. I didn’t want to believe it then, but I see now that he was right. If I hadn’t believed him then, I never would’ve believed you when you said you wanted to help me.”

If Snape thought talking to a dead person was odd, he gave no indication.

“So I’m going to keep trying to follow his plan unless I see good reason to try something else,” Harry continued.

“Very well,” Snape acknowledged. “Is there anything else I need to know which you have neglected to mention?”

Harry thought as he stepped out of the tub and dried off. “I don’t think so…. It was strange. I didn’t forget about the Hallows, but it was like I couldn’t remember them either for some reason. I don’t remember my capture and there might be details that we’d need to know.” Harry picked up the muscle potion and began rubbing it into his legs. “You say that my mind sealed off the memory of my capture?”

“Yes.” Snape stepped forward and picked up the potion. He knelt down to rub it into Harry’s shoulders, his fingers expertly working out the tension with deep, hard strokes that made Harry’s penis thicken. “I’ve not seen the mind restrict memories on its own before and I am reluctant to try to break through the barrier again after the reaction you had when I pushed through it the other time. I will probably have to dose you with high levels of painkillers before a second attempt.”

Harry pressed back into Snape’s touch. Snape’s fingers were stroking him so wonderfully; he wanted to have sex then and there. He bunched the towel over his groin so that Snape couldn’t see he was already hard. He leaned forward, letting Snape’s fingers journey slowly down his spine. Snape massaged the top of Harry’s buttocks before he slid his hands back up to Harry’s shoulders and then removed them to Harry’s disappointment.

Snape stepped away from him and washed his hands in the sink. Harry had gotten so distracted by the massage he couldn’t even remember what they had been talking about. He pulled the towel along with him as he headed back to his cell, careful to hide his erection from Snape.

“Has Voldemort said anything about yesterday?” 

“I haven’t seen him since.” Snape spelled dinner on the table and took his chair. “I imagine he is responding to the uproar the articles caused.”

Harry started on his haddock. “What was the reaction? Did I fool everyone?”

“There are many who remain convinced that it was a hoax. There have been calls for you to be brought out in public so that more than a select few individuals may examine you. I doubt that the Dark Lord will acquiesce to those demands.” Snape sipped his tea, watching Harry.

“Oh.” Harry pressed down the stab of disappointment he felt. “I guess I’ll have to set my escape plans back a few days.” He grinned cheekily at Snape who fixed him with a glare that clearly said, ‘don’t you dare.’

“I will bring you a copy of the article once I obtain one. Narcissa told me that the Daily Prophet was so besieged by owls, many gave up and returned home empty handed.”

Narcissa. Harry really didn’t like her; she was so arrogant and snotty. “What were you talking to her about?”

“Not about you, so stop asking.” Snape's icy voice stopped Harry from trying to pry further.

Narcissa probably didn’t know about Harry and Snape. Harry couldn’t wait to tell her. “I don’t need a copy of the article. I can imagine what it says.” Rita Skeeter had probably claimed that he was trying to become a Dark Lord with Voldemort or something equally ridiculous. 

“It probably won’t be very flattering to you,” Snape agreed. “That should work to our advantage, however. The more people believe that you are broken, the more you will be treated as such, and the more likely it will be that the Dark Lord will see you that way as well.”

“So what will happen in the throne room now?” Harry couldn’t help but ask.

“I don’t imagine it will change much,” answered Snape slowly. “He may allow a wider group of individuals to have access to you. Before, only those in his close circle were granted permission to ever be near you. I will try to prevent him from increasing the frequency of the torture sessions. After the Avery debacle, I do not believe he will replace me anytime soon. If that should happen, you know what to do.”

Harry’s heart beat fast. Both of them would work their hardest to keep Snape in Voldemort’s favour. “Hopefully they will get bored now that I won’t fight back.”

Snape stood. “Get to bed. You will have two full training sessions tomorrow.”

No sex? Harry had been sure that he would get sex tonight. “What? But I thought….”

“Thought what, Potter?” prompted Snape when Harry couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Harry could feel his face turning red. “I thought we might train more after dinner,” he lied, trying to ignore his thick cock.

“No, I must brew.” Snape cleared the dishes. “You will train longer tomorrow to make up for today.”

Harry bit back his disappointment. “Alright.” He stared at the table as Snape left. Why hadn’t they had sex? Was it because of Narcissa? His anger flared. Then again, Snape had said that he needed to brew. Maybe he liked to sleep after sex like Harry did and preferred to wait for an evening where he could leave Harry and go straight to his room afterwards. Either way, they’d have to have sex soon or Voldemort would become suspicious. 

Harry stepped over to the sink and brushed his teeth. Snape wanted him. He would have sex with Harry before long. Harry sat on the toilet and wanked himself slowly, sliding his hand from root to tip. He hadn’t been this randy at Hogwarts. Now it seemed he couldn’t even spend a day with Snape without needing to ejaculate. He thought about how Snape had massaged his back earlier and he imagined the potion-stained hands sliding over Harry’s body, working out the tension everywhere. Snape's longer fingers would finally curl around Harry’s cock and stroke him just the way he needed. Tight and fast and hard and - Harry quickly cupped a hand over the head of his cock as he orgasmed with a soft moan. He stroked himself until he was sure that he had finished, and then cleaned himself off before heading to bed.

Harry slid under the sheets and closed his eyes. His thoughts drifted to his belongings that had been stashed in the pouch. The Snitch hadn’t looked important at all and yet it had been given to Snape. Perhaps the other items had been dispersed among the Death Eaters for similar reasons. How he would find the objects, he had no idea, but knowing that there was a possibility his belongings had survived filled him with hope. He would hold his photo album again. 

It wasn’t long before he fell asleep. 

*taken from Half Blood Prince 

{{Thank you for reading! Please review!}} 


	39. Chapter 39

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

[[ _Thank you for the criticism. I tried to write this chapter keeping in mind what you said I was doing wrong._ ]]

Harry was hard when he woke. He pushed down the sheets and spit in his hand before grabbing himself. He wanked himself slowly but thoroughly, stroking from base to tip with each slow pass. He imagined that Ginny was there, lying beside him while he was spooned up against her back. He was thrusting into her and she was moaning in his ear with pleasure. He began to cant his hips as he moved his hand faster. He was fucking Ginny and she was screaming his name as he pounded into her. She wanted it. She wanted him. He orgasmed, biting back a moan as his dick emptied. It was nice but not what he really wanted. He wanted sex and he was determined to get it today. Snape would have to do it or else face Voldemort’s wrath. When he caught his breath, he hurried over to the sink to clean himself. Once he had dried himself, he plopped down in his chair and waited impatiently for Snape to bring him breakfast. When Snape finally arrived, he twisted to look at him as the older wizard strode in through the library door. “Did you order the books?” “I did. They should arrive tomorrow.” Snape stepped through the bars and touched the table with his wand. He returned his wand to his robes and removed a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. He placed it on the table beside Harry’s breakfast. In huge letters across the top it read “HARRY POTTER: ‘DON’T FIGHT THE DARK LORD.’” Harry turned away from it quickly, his heart sinking. “I told you, I don’t want to read it.” Snape picked up the paper and opened it to the second page. He placed it down on the table. “Look, Miss Granger is still listed in the ‘Wanted’ section.” Harry grabbed the paper and yanked it over. There, in the top row of a page of pictures with names and rewards, were Hermione and Ron. Ron was rubbing his nose in his picture while Hermione looked as though she were about to deliver a lecture. Ten thousand galleons were offered for each of them. His heart swelled with pride at the sight of their faces. They wouldn’t let him down. They would find the Horcruxes. Harry scanned the other faces. Neville and his grandmother, Luna and her father, Dean Thomas, Lupin, Tonks, Kingsley, Ollivander, Mr Weasley, Mrs Weasley…. Harry’s breath caught and he quickly shifted his eyes to the end of the row of Weasleys. There, at the very end, was a picture of Ginny. He stared it, completely transfixed. She was laughing, her mouth opening wide and her eyes crinkling up. It was one of the most beautiful sights he had ever seen. “Ginny….” He stroked her picture with his fingertips, imagining that somewhere she was doing the same to one of his. A sudden fear gripped his heart. “What if she read this and believed it? I mean, she knows that they print a lot of rubbish, but what if she believed it? She-” “She won’t,” Snape said calmly, sipping his tea as he watched Harry. “As I said, your most devoted supporters will not be convinced of your enslavement until they see you with their own eyes.” Harry barely heard him. He missed her so much. He missed all of them so very much. He hadn't had much time to dwell on his loneliness. With all the focus on his training, he had been able to push aside his desire to be with his friends. But now, the full weight of it settled on him. It was a tightness in his heart, a constant shortness of breath, an ache in his stomach that grew as he gazed at their pictures. After Sirius's death, a pit had opened inside of his gut; a dark hole he always felt but kept in check, unwilling to let his grief consume him. He clamped down the iron bars of self control around it now. He needed to focus on his training and be sure he ready to defeat Voldemort as soon as possible. After Voldemort died, then they would be safe. Until then, he would stay here and work as hard as he could. He didn’t know what he’d do without them. Especially Ginny. He knew he had been right to break up with her, but still some part of him wished he hadn't. He should have made sure she knew how much he loved her. He gripped the bottom of the page to tear out her picture when Snape sharply said, “What are you doing?” Harry looked up to see a frown on Snape’s face. He knew it was stupid, but he couldn't stop himself from wanting. Taking a deep breath he said, “I want to keep her picture.” “How would I explain your possession of it?” Snape asked. “You’re using it to torture me? I’d tear it up or eat it if one of them came close to me.” Snape shook his head. “That’s far too risky. I have an idea.” He stood up and walked past Harry to his bed. With a flick of his wand, he raised the mattress and removed the _Cosmos_ book. He brought it over to the table and flipped it open, searching through the pages. Finally, he left the book open and touched his wand to the picture of Ginny. He chanted under his breath while Harry watched with interest. Ginny froze in mid-laugh, her picture transforming into a regular Muggle-looking photograph. Snape placed his wand tip on a picture of a boy in the book and chanted. The boy came to life, smiling and tilting his head. Snape tapped the picture and tapped Ginny’s, and they switched places. “Wow…” Harry breathed, pulling the _Cosmos_ book closer to him so that he could examine the picture. It was flawless. “That’s brilliant!” “If that book should be confiscated I will have absolutely no sympathy,” Snape told him. “Try not to be as stupid as you usually are.” Harry grinned at him. Only Snape would feel the need to insult someone after doing them a favour. “I won’t let them take it, I promise.” Snape folded up the _Prophet_ and returned to his chair. Harry touched Ginny’s picture one last time before he left his chair to slide the book under the mattress. Once he was sure it was safely tucked away, he returned to eat his breakfast. “What will we be doing today?” Harry asked as he started on his scrambled eggs. “You will practise aiming while I read.” “What are you reading?” Normally Snape paid attention to Harry while he was training. It was unusual for him to be wrapped up in books during their session. “I happen to possess several volumes on wand lore that may provide me with a greater understanding of the legend of the Elder Wand and its practical application to our current situation.” “Oh.” Hermione and Snape would get along well if he would learn to stop acting like a git so often. Harry tried to imagine taking Snape with him back to the Order and reintroducing him as his ally. They would probably cart him off to St Mungo’s. Harry finished off his meal and then prepared himself for his lessons. Snape cleared the dishes and then left the cell, walking into the library. It was rare for Snape to leave Harry completely alone with the bars of the cell open. Harry quickly finished brushing his teeth and crept out of the cell, moving sideways while watching the open library door for Snape’s figure. He walked as quietly as he could as he inched his way backwards. When he reached the door he hadn’t been through yet, he stealthily tried the door knob. It was locked. He cursed his bad luck and then debated which room to explore next. He had already explored the bathroom on his own, so there was no point in going in there. He used the technique Snape taught him as he slinked down the hallway. If he was lucky, Snape had gone upstairs. Harry poked his head in and found Snape standing before a bookshelf with his back to Harry. “Has your curiosity been satiated?” Snape inquired without looking back at Harry. He pulled a book from the shelf and set it on top of a small pile of books which was floating beside him. “Howd’ya you know I went exploring?” Harry asked as he stepped in and looked to _Frankenstein’s_ resting place. It was gone. He walked over towards where Snape stood, glancing over the table tops for its colours. “You were uncharacteristically quiet.” Snape replaced the book he had been leafing through and selected another. Harry examined all the books on the table tops but didn’t see _Frankenstein_. “Where’s _Frankenstein_?” Snape glanced at him. “What concern is it to you?” “It’s the only book you haven’t let me read.” Harry plopped down on the sofa. It was far more comfortable than the large one in the practice room he had previously favoured. He ran his hands over the fabric, enjoying the feel of it underneath his skin. They should have sex on it. “There are many books I won’t let you read.” Snape turned back to his shelf. “That’s simply the only title you have requested that I have refused. I can assure you, if you had asked for more, there would be a great many added to that number.” “We should hang out in here, it’s rather nice.” Harry adjusted one of the throw pillows. “Potter, whatever gives you the impression that I wish to ‘hang out’ with you?” Snape asked coolly as he ran a finger down the index of the book in his hand. “Fine, sit around and talk about the Horcruxes,” Harry answered waspishly. For someone who was supposedly trying to be nice to him, Snape wasn’t doing a very good job. “Have you neglected to inform me of certain matters?” Snape turned his head and narrowed his eyes at Harry. “I told you, I think I said everything, but I don’t remember so I don’t know for sure." “Then there is no need to discuss the subject further.” Snape added another book to the pile. “Come, to the throne room.” He swept past Harry and strode up the stairs. Harry reluctantly got up from the sofa. They should have sex on it. Sex in the library in general sounded like fun. They could do it on the sofa, on the rug in front of the fire, or up against the door. They should have sex in all the rooms in the house. Snape’s bedroom, the kitchen, the throne room, and maybe even Snape’s potions lab. It would be the only time Harry would eagerly visit Snape’s lab. Harry imagined having sex in Voldemort’s throne and nearly laughed out loud. Voldemort would kill them if he knew. “I’d ask why you have that particularly vacuous grin on your face but I suspect I’d rather remain ignorant of the answer.” Snape enchanted three balls for Harry. “You probably would." Harry suspected that if he told Snape his plan, Snape would refuse for sure. He’d have to trick or dare him into it. He’d save the throne for last. They just wouldn’t show Voldemort that one. Maybe he could even get Snape to give him head while he sat in Voldemort’s throne. The fantasy filled him with excitement and he had to think of disgusting things to calm himself back down. “Did you bring the laser pointer?” Snape asked Harry, distracting him from his thoughts. “Oh, I thought you secretly took it while I wasn’t looking.” Snape sighed. “Honestly … _Accio laser pointer_!” Harry was ready when it showed up, hurtling towards him. He leapt forward and snatched it out of the air. Snape tossed Harry his glasses and then walked over to his chair, muttering under his breath. Harry slipped on his glasses and strode to the centre of the room where he began to aim. He had improved and the rounds passed quicker than they had the day before. Snape remained in his chair, his huge nose pressed into the books he was reading. Harry grew tired of aiming and sat on the floor as he watched Snape. He occasionally raised his hand and pressed the pointer as if he were still concentrating on aiming. When Harry had learned Snape had stolen his memory, he had been so sure that it was impossible to trust the older wizard. However, the incidence with the interviewers had shown that Harry had a lot of power over Snape. Snape had even admitted that he could’ve been killed if Harry had accidentally revealed their plans while under the Veritaserum. Despite the risks to his own life, he had trusted Harry enough to allow him to be drugged and questioned. Yes, Snape could’ve stopped any questions that would’ve revealed his secret, but surely Voldemort and the interviewers would’ve noticed if Snape kept Harry from answering certain queries. Snape had demonstrated his trust in Harry and Harry had returned it by telling him about the Deathly Hallows. Harry still retained doubts about the Potions Master, but he could see no advantages to keeping the Deathly Hallows a secret, especially when Voldemort was hunting for one of them. There was the possibility that Snape would take all three Hallows and use them to become the Master of Death, but Harry had the feeling that if he could beat Voldemort, then he could beat Snape. He wouldn’t destroy one Dark Lord to let another rise in his place. Before, Harry had been sure that Snape wanted to destroy Voldemort in order to become a Dark Lord himself, but Harry now considered that unlikely. Snape had been antagonistic with most of the Death Eaters which seemed a very foolish move for someone who wanted to gain control of them. No, it was most likely that Snape wanted Voldemort destroyed simply to regain his freedom. Harry didn’t think that he could trust Snape to do his best to help Harry simply for the sake of helping Harry. While he didn’t believe that Snape wanted to torture or kill him and only refrained from doing so out of respect for Voldemort, he didn’t think that Snape would risk stepping in to keep Harry safe from either unless Snape gained some advantage from it as well. He had no illusions that Snape loved or even cared for him. Harry felt sure he could trust Snape to do his best to destroy Voldemort, but he didn’t believe that it was wise to expect Snape to look out for Harry’s best interest. Harry would just have to convince Snape that he needed Harry to not only defeat Voldemort but help Snape in the aftermath of the war. Otherwise, Snape could end up in prison – or worse. In order to do that, he needed to teach Snape not to underestimate him. Harry wanted to out-stealth Snape again. Ever since he had managed to tackle Snape during that one practice session, Snape had anticipated most of his attacks and Harry hadn’t come close to taking him down again. He wanted to try to sneak up on Snape now, but he had no idea how he’d do it without revealing himself or drawing suspicion. He tried moving closer as subtly as he could, but Snape raised his head when Harry was an arm span away from the edge of the dais and met Harry’s eyes. “Shouldn’t you be concentrating on your aiming?” Snape asked in a tone filled with authority. “I am,” Harry lied and rolled away to return to his practice. He’d never be able to get Snape that way. He’d have to get Snape to fill the room with furniture. With furniture he could sneak towards Snape without being caught – as long as Snape didn’t cheat, which always seemed to happen in their contests. Once again, Harry wished he had a wand. The first time he had duelled with Snape, Snape had treated him like an irritating bug, knocking Harry’s spells away with ease. Harry thought he had improved considerably, but he was dying to test his talents against Snape to see how far he had come in these last few months. Snape closed his book and looked at Harry. “That should be enough for now.” He waved his wand at Harry, chaining him to the floor. Snape stood and left to prepare lunch. Harry fiddled with his chain, running his fingers over the interlacing rings. Snape should train him how to break out of them soon; maybe even how to break out of the cuffs. They just needed to find that final Horcrux, destroy Nagini, and then they’d be ready to take down Voldemort. Maybe they should try to figure out a way to work together with Ron and Hermione rather than relying on them completely. Harry had the feeling that his friends would never find it unless he and Snape worked with them. Snape floated in the tray and conjured a chair and table for himself beside Harry. He removed his lunch and then floated the tray down to Harry. Harry examined his sandwich which was composed of an unidentified type of fish, sun-dried tomatoes, and leafy greens on whole wheat bread. He stared at it suspiciously, but he had always enjoyed everything Snape offered him with the exception of Brussels sprouts. He took a bite and it was quite delicious. The fish had been marinated in a lemony sauce that had an interesting tang to it. “Wouldn’t it be better if we tried to work with Ron and Hermione?” Harry asked. “It will take a lot longer if we each work on our own. Shouldn’t you contact them?” “If Miss Granger and Mr Weasley were easy to contact then they would’ve been captured by now.” “Well, maybe they could make contact with someone at the Order-” “I should hope not. The Order is composed of too many individuals for me to presume that spies haven’t infiltrated it. Even if all its members were loyal, there are not many who can resist the type of torture the Death Eaters will use in order to gain information. You may think you have been treated poorly, but I can assure you that what has been done to you is nothing compared to what they will use in order to obtain information if they were sufficiently determined.” “So even one person-” “Still too risky,” Snape insisted. “I do not trust any of them to be able to withstand questioning.” Harry frowned. “But you trust me and I’m-” “Horrible at hiding information? Yes, but you are far more controlled than any Order member, aren’t you? I know with whom you will come in contact, when you will mostly interact with them, what you know and don’t know about me, and where you are and what you’re doing almost every moment of the day. I’ve also been with you almost every single time you’ve been interrogated which means I can intervene if I have even the slightest inkling that you might reveal our plans, accidentally or not.” Snape paused and then added, “I have taken several risks in revealing my intentions and plans to you. Truth be told, I would have preferred to keep you entirely in the dark, but I had the feeling that I would not be able to train you in any manner of resistance had you continued to believe that I was a loyal Death Eater.” “What if the Order didn’t know it was you who was helping them?” “I’ve always assumed that any communications sent to and from this location were monitored,” Snape explained. “Furthermore, I assume that the Order would be highly suspicious of contact from unknown persons and would only impart information to me after I had sufficiently persuaded them I was not a supporter of the Dark Lord. While I could do it if I thought it was necessary, it would involve a lot of risk on my part. The Dark Lord informs certain individuals of each of his plans so that when information is passed to his enemies, it is fairly easy for him to ascertain the cause of those leaks.” “So we are on our own?” “I believe we will protect Granger and Weasley by remaining out of contact with them. I also want to avoid any unnecessary risks on our own part. If they find and destroy the Diadem, I will know.” “But that could take forever!” Harry shoved his empty plate away from him. What the hell kind of plan was that? “I don’t want to just sit here and wait. We should help them find it.” “Have you no faith in your friends?” “I do! I just don’t think we should leave something so important to chance. I’ve been here for months and they still haven’t found it. What if it takes months more?” There was no way in hell he was staying in this prison for months. Already he had been here far too long without an end in sight. He wanted to -needed to- fight Voldemort and end this war before more people died. “It won’t,” said Snape with an easy wave of his hand. In a sharper tone, he added, “If you want them to be safe then they must be cautious. Do you want them to risk their safety in order to aid you?" "No, of course not!" Harry answered indignantly. It surprised him that Snape cared about Ron and Hermione's welfare, but then again, maybe Snape simply thought they were more useful to him alive. "I just... I mean." Harry ran his hand through his hair. "It seems incredibly stupid to rely completely on them when we don't even know where they are or how far they are along." "I will know if they have succeeded and that is all we need to know." Harry opened his mouth to interject but Snape continued to speak, "However, I am not relying solely on them. If it appears that they will be unable to succeed, then I will remove myself from this post and hunt for the diadem myself. I would prefer to utilise that method only as a last resort and after you are properly trained.” “How much more training do I need to do?” asked Harry. “That depends on your progress.” Snape finished his sandwich, stood, and cleared their plates and the conjured furniture. “You will practise aiming again while I finish reading the books. I would advise you to practise moving around the room while you aim.” Harry resolutely picked up the laser pointer. “Have you learned anything yet?” “I have ideas but nothing concrete.” Snape returned to his chair, picking up the next book in his pile. “Such as?” Harry prompted. “I’ll tell you once I have more information,” Snape answered without looking up from his book. "Why not now?" Snape lifted his head and glared at Harry. "Pestering me does not help either of us. Focus on your work and I will focus on mine." He returned to his book without giving Harry a chance to respond. Harry sighed and returned to aiming. He darted around the room, pretending that there were Death Eaters casting spells at him. The hard marble of the throne room was quite different than the plush carpet of the practice room to which he was used. Harry tried to do a roll he had successfully completed many times before in the practice room. Even though he was careful not to let himself fall as hard as he normally did, he still banged his left knee against the marble harder than he had intended and pain shot up his leg. It was a mild irritation but he wasn’t sure what level of pain caused Voldemort to take notice. “I hurt my knee,” Harry informed Snape. “It’s not painful but I don’t know what he ignores.” Snape strode over, removing the painkiller from his robes. Harry stuck out his tongue and Snape dropped two drips on the tip. He knelt beside Harry, his fingers lightly touching Harry's injured knee. “This knee?” “Yeah, I don’t think I damaged it, just banged it up a bit.” Snape placed his left hand on Harry’s calf and his right on Harry’s upper thigh, leaving a handspan between each hand and the knee. He closed his eyes and Harry felt a tingling sensation run through his knee. Snape opened his eyes. “I’m not a mediwizard but it appears to be fine. Perhaps I should wrap it just in case.” “I really don’t think it’s necessary.” Harry straightened and bent his leg. “I didn’t hit it that hard.” Snape stood and chained him to the floor. “It is foolish to take risks.” He left in a swirl of black. Harry sighed. He thought Snape was being overly cautious, but he supposed Snape wouldn’t have lasted very long as an anti-Voldemort Death Eater if he wasn’t so paranoid. Snape returned with a jar and bandages. He knelt beside Harry again and opened the jar. Dipping his fingers in the container, he scooped up some purple, jam-like substance and spread the cold goop over Harry's knee. His fingers moving in familiar, circular patterns, Snape massaged it into the skin. Harry stared at the path of the fingers, mesmerised by their movements as they stroked the skin near his groin. Harry shut off that train of thought before it took him places he didn't want to go in front of Snape. Snape was so close, the edges of his robes brushing across Harry's arm. He could smell him, that odd mix of earth and potions. Since when was the smell of Snape arousing? He forced his thoughts to Voldemort to keep himself flaccid. Voldemort fucking Avery. God, that was a disgusting thought. “Does it hurt?” asked Snape, his black eyes focussed on Harry’s and his eyebrows drawn together in an expression of concern. Harry wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Snape had to have figured out by now how easily Harry was aroused in his presence. “No…no…I just…” He couldn’t think of an excuse. “That stuff is kind of slimy.” Snape wiped his hands off on a black rag Harry hadn’t seen before. “I wasn’t aware you were so squeamish, Potter.” He began to wrap up Harry’s knee, his fingers moving with meticulous precision. “I’m not. It just reminds me…of something…that I saw once. Anyway…” He needed to change the subject. “I think the carpet spoiled me. I’m going to have to practise dodging in here, especially since this is where we will fight.” Snape sealed the bandages. “If the battle occurs in this location, this is the most likely room.” “Where else would it be?” “I prefer not to assume. The Dark Lord could order you to be moved to another location at any moment.” “Why hasn’t he? Isn’t it risky to have me in the same location for months on end?” Harry asked. “There are only a select few who know how to Apparate here. The rest must be brought by the Dark Lord or one of his chosen. Once he views you as broken, he may move you to another location. I cannot say.” “I hope we stay here." “Return to your training.” Snape stood and stepped back up onto the dais. Rather than aiming, of which he had grown quite bored, Harry decided to practise moving around the room as quickly as possible without harming himself on the marble. Snape ignored him, but whenever Harry approached the dais, he would shift his gaze to Harry as if to say, ‘I know you are trying to attack me.’ Harry would never be able to attack him this round. He returned to his practise until Snape stood up. “That will be all for today, follow me.” Snape swept his hand and his books rose up and trailed behind him as he marched towards Harry’s cell. Harry followed after him. Snape paused in the library to send his books back to their spots on the shelves and Harry draped himself across the sofa, wriggling into the soft cushions. “Get up. You need a bath.” Snape ordered the instant Harry laid down. “I’m not even sweaty,” Harry protested, but he stood and waited until Snape was finished. They walked to the bathroom together and Harry took off his glasses, handing them and the laser pointer back to Snape. He climbed into the tub and began his shower. “I hate it when my eyes are adjusting from wearing glasses to going without. You look like a giant penguin or something. If you think we are going to need to fight, then you shouldn’t give me my glasses that day or give them to me early in the day.” “Ideally, you won't be wearing your glasses when the time for armed conflict arrives. Too many wizards use sight rather than feel to block spells which only works for spells which leave discrete traces. More importantly, if you were to wear glasses during the start of a conflict and your glasses were broken or knocked off, you would have a moment of extraordinarily poor vision. I fear you would also be the type who would waste valuable time searching for your glasses." Harry thought back to when his glasses had been knocked off. "You're right. Isn't there some way you can give me permanent glasses? A sticking spell?" "The Muggles use devices known as ‘contact lenses’ which are adjusted lenses worn directly on the eyes. There is no equivalent in the wizarding world as most wizards prefer to use their glasses to enhance their vision rather than simply correcting it. I have thought about ordering or conjuring a pair of contact lenses for you, but I feel ordering would be too suspicious and I worry about using magic so close to your eyes without any formal training." “I’d prefer you not mess with any of my senses,” Harry told him. As amazing as Snape had been with the potions and the spells, he wasn’t prepared to let him try to fix anything he was scared to lose. After Harry finished his shower, he stepped out of the tub and dried himself off quickly. He opened the muscle potion and dribbled a good amount on his legs before he placed the bottle on the edge of the tub. After a bit, Snape picked it up and suggested, "Lie down on your stomach so that I may access your back." Harry stretched out on the rug, placing the towel underneath him. Snape poured the warm potion onto Harry’s back in a long drizzle before setting the bottle aside. He slid his long fingers over Harry's skin as he massaged it in using the movements Harry knew so well. Harry focused on the slowly stroking hands, relaxing against the towel beneath him. Snape’s fingers worked their way down Harry’s spine, his thumbs pressed against the sides. Harry hardened as they stroked lower and lower; journeying towards his arse. He shifted, closing his legs and hiding his erection. When Snape finally began to massage Harry’s buttocks, Harry was completely hard, his dick pressed firmly between his stomach and the towel. The rest of his body felt so relaxed, Snape could probably slide his cock in Harry's arse without causing any pain. Snape normally passed over Harry’s buttocks fairly quickly, but this time he lingered. He probably really wanted to have sex with Harry. He’d get it tonight, it had been too long. Snape rolled his hands over Harry’s cheeks as he massaged him, spreading them open and closing them again. Harry pressed his dick into the towel and concentrated on the warm hands squeezing and massaging his arse. Tonight he would come for sure. Snape would wank him off or even suck him off. If Snape took his time and blew Harry with the same deliberate thoroughness he gave massages, then Harry'd gladly spread his legs. Just thinking about it made his dick throb and he had to hold himself still so he wouldn’t hump the bathmat. Snape’s hands stroked down Harry’s thighs, and then further down his legs. When he reached Harry’s feet, he tapped the side of his leg. “Roll over,” Snape ordered, his voice deep. Harry pulled the towel with him, keeping it bunched over his groin. Snape wrapped his warm hands around Harry's ankles and began to knead the flesh in circles. He worked his way up Harry's legs, his hands drifting ever closer towards Harry's cock. Harry held the towel tightly in place as Snape rubbed the lotion into his upper thighs, the warm liquid seeping into his skin. Harry gripped the edges of the towel, his breath caught in his throat. If Snape moved his hand just a bit higher, he would be stroking Harry’s cock. Snape's hands moved inward, massaging circles into Harry's inner thighs and when they moved a millimeter upwards, touching the edge of the towel, Harry shut his eyes, desperately waiting for Snape to continue. But Snape did not remove the towel and wank Harry off. Instead, he passed over it and began to rub the lotion into Harry’s stomach. His hands moved quickly, briskly continuing their way up Harry’s torso and down his arms. Upon reaching Harry's wrists, Snape stood and Harry heard him step over to the sink. Harry opened his eyes to see him washing his hands. Holding his towel closed to hide his heavy erection, Harry got to his feet and walked back to his cell. He was so close to blowing his load he wasn’t sure how he’d be able to make it through dinner. Snape followed after him, striding to the table. He tapped Harry’s side with his wand and Harry hurried over, dropping into his seat. He attacked his pork chops, determined to finish his meal quickly in order to get on to the sex. Snape paused beside the table and Harry waited for him to procure his tea and sit down, but instead he walked towards the bars. “Where are you going?” Harry demanded. “That is none of your business,” Snape said firmly. “But…” Harry stared at the table. He had been so sure he was going to get sex. “We have to have sex. Voldemort-” “He didn’t ask for the last memory. We won’t have to perform until after you have been tortured again,” Snape explained in a clipped tone. Harry suppressed his disappointment. “That’s good,” he managed to say. Snape left quickly, his robes billowing behind him. Harry watched him go, full of confusion. He had been so sure that Snape wanted to have sex with him. Why hadn't he? Was he afraid of turning gay? That didn’t make sense. Snape had probably read the books himself which meant that he would know that having or even wanting prison sex didn’t make you gay. All Harry knew was that he needed release. He hurried over to the toilet, dropping his towel on the floor. He held himself steady with his left hand on the cistern lid as he grabbed himself with his right and began to stroke his hard prick. He was so wet; he didn’t need any form of lube. He jerked himself quickly; imagining the fingers around his penis belonged to someone else. He came shortly but it wasn’t very satisfying. Harry cleaned himself off in the sink. Perhaps he should stop masturbating, it only seemed to make him all the more randy. Right now, he wanted to bang his cuffs against the bars and demand sex from Snape. He returned to his dinner instead. it'd probably be a good idea if they had an extra session in case they wouldn’t have time to have sex or if Harry got sick. Voldemort might demand a second memory and it would be suspicious if Snape didn't have a second one to show him. He walked over to the bars, ready to call Snape back to the cell, but when he raised his hand to strike his cuff against the bars, he paused. Snape would know why Harry wanted him to come back. Harry didn't want to seem desperate for sex. If Snape could hold out, then so could he. He ignored his penis and retreated to his bed to read before sleep. 

[[ _Please review_ ]] 


	40. Chapter 40

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


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[[ _I've gotten a lot of comments on two main subjects. The first is problems with the font size. I've tried not putting in any html except for and I've tried using s too but I am not sure what is happening. I tried to upload it as a doc but it turned out really strange when I did. If anyone knows how to fix this, please let me know. Until then, the only thing I can suggest is changing your browser size. When I upload to here, I copy/paste the html from livejournal (I do the html there by hand), and it seems to work fine there._

_The second comment is the slowness/boringness of the earlier chapters. I've actually been looking for someone to go with me through the first parts and have me trim it down and spruce it up a bit. I've done what I've done for very deliberate reasons, but I think I can write it better now that I've had a lot more experience writing and have learned loads of things. I've been courting betas who don't like Snarry because I think it will help me figure out what is necessary to keep in and what can be summarized better. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to get anyone yet despite trying for months. Since my choices are either to leave the story until I can find someone with lots of time to help me or post the later chapters which are more adventurous, I've decided to keep posting. :x_ ]]

Harry dreamt he wrote several letters to Ginny. He asked Snape for Strix so he could send them to her, but Snape refused. 

“You lost your old owl,” Snape said. "If I give you mine you will probably lose her too.” 

“How can I lose her in my cell?” Harry protested. “It’s not very big.” 

“You will find a way. You're always losing things.” 

“That’s a lie!” Harry jumped to his feet. “You’re just jealous because Strix likes me more than she likes you!” 

“Fine, fine, take the bloody owl.” Snape waved the library door open and Strix flew in. 

Harry held out his arm for her and she landed, hooting at him happily. He stroked her soft feathers and gave her owl treats. “You're a good owl, Strix.” She was beautiful, just like Hedwig, and his heart ached as he thought of his now-dead owl. “Stay safe, Strix. The Death Eaters might kill you if they see you delivering my letters.” 

She hooted her understanding and lightly nibbled his fingers as Hedwig used to do. 

The library door slammed open and Harry awoke to find himself in bed stroking his pillow. He put it to the side, trying to ignore the melancholy feeling in his heart. 

“The Dark Lord may not be able to use the Elder Wand to its full effect even if he should find it,” Snape announced as he walked into Harry’s cell and procured breakfast. 

“Why not?” Harry asked as he released his pillow and slid out of his bed to join Snape at the table. 

“In order to master the Elder Wand, one must defeat its current owner. This leaves three possible scenarios. The true master of the Elder Wand after the Headmaster is either young Malfoy or myself. There is also the possibility that in basically committing suicide, the Headmaster took the mastery of the Elder Wand with him to the grave.” 

“Wait.” Harry frowned in confusion. “I understand that and I understand why you’d have the Wand, but why Draco?” 

“He used _Expelliarmus_ on the Headmaster.” 

“That’s enough to count for a defeat?” 

“It might. Some of my sources suggest that disarming the wizard who is currently the master of the Elder Wand may be enough to earn its allegiance, even if that master is not currently in possession of the Wand,” Snape explained. 

“That’s easy to fix,” Harry declared. “Call Draco over, _Expelliarmus_ him, and _Obliviate_ that memory. Then you’d be in charge of the Elder Wand.” 

Snape stared at him. 

“What?” Harry asked, wondering if he had got whipped cream on his face. He rubbed his nose self-consciously. 

Snape’s mouth quirked up in an expression that looked remarkably like a smile before he continued, “There is a critical flaw in your plan. We don’t know if anyone has defeated Draco since that night on the Astronomy Tower. I would have to find a way to examine every single conflict in which Draco has been involved since then.” 

“Can’t you just use Legilimency?” 

“As I’ve told you before Potter, it is not an exact science. There are several techniques I can employ to attempt to bring forth the memories I seek, but all are far from perfect.” 

“Not to mention Draco knows how to Occlude, doesn’t he?” Harry asked.

“Yes….” Snape agreed, but the way he said it made Harry suspect Draco wasn’t a true Occlumens either. After several minutes, Snape continued, “I suspect the Dark Lord will arrive tonight. We will have a normal training session in the morning and then you will return to your cage while I brew before he arrives.” 

Harry would never look forward to being tortured but he was glad to know he would get to have sex again before long. “What d’you think I should work on today?” 

“Dodging in the throne room,” Snape replied as he sent away his empty mug. “You should be able to use the same manoeuvres as in the practice room without hurting yourself. How does your knee feel?” 

“It’s perfect.” Harry stretched out his leg and bent it. He doubted he'd even have a bruise. 

“I will examine it.” Snape stepped over and Harry turned in his chair and swung his leg out. Snape knelt before him and Harry was reminded of the dream about Ginny where she had knelt between his legs to suck him off. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. It was too much like the day before and he knew he was going to get hard if Snape touched him any more than necessary. 

Snape ran his wand over the bandages and they fell away turning into ash. He lifted Harry’s ankle with his left hand, his right fingers stroking the underside of Harry’s knee as he bent and straightened it. The touch was oddly intimate and Harry felt heat flush his face as his penis came to life. He hid his groin with his hands. If Snape could restrain himself, then so could he. 

“No stiffness?” Snape asked, glancing up at Harry, his hands still on Harry’s leg. 

“No,” Harry croaked out in a voice much higher than usual. There was stiffness alright, but not in his leg. 

Snape stood. “Finish your breakfast and we will have a normal training session.” He returned to his chair and removed a book from his robes. 

“Right.” Harry nodded, relieved when Snape finally left him alone. He didn’t want to ask Snape to leave so that he could wank, but he knew if Snape had remained close to him and continued to touch him like that, he would’ve got quite hard. Hee focused on his breakfast to try to calm himself down. 

By the time he'd finished brushing his teeth after his meal, he was completely calm. “I’m ready.” 

Like usual, training consisted of dodging. Harry dutifully practised, but soon grew bored and caught the next ball that raced towards him. 

“Defence Potter, not offence,” Snape insisted without looking up from his book. 

“Come on…” Harry tossed the ball to the side. It seemed like all he ever did was eat, sleep, and train. “What are you reading that’s so interesting anyway?” 

Snape closed his book. “I’ve been researching the Hallows.” 

Harry walked over and sat on the edge of the dais. “What’ve you learned?” 

“I do not believe the Headmaster intended for you to become the ‘Master of Death’ as you say. Why exactly, I do not know. Perhaps he feared you would become reliant on the Wand and not do what needs to be done.” 

“I don’t understand.” Harry shook his head. “Don’t I need to kill Voldemort? How would having the Wand hurt me?” 

Snape was gazing at Harry with an expression he didn’t recognise. “Several reasons. If you were reliant on the wand and the Dark Lord used _Expelliarmus_ on you and possessed it, you might give up hope. You don’t _need_ a wand or magic to defeat him. The less reliant you are on outside sources, the better off you will be.” 

“Wait a minute,” Harry interjected. “How am I supposed to defeat Voldemort without either? What's your plan anyway?” 

“We’ve discussed this before. I will tell you once I feel it is necessary to do so.” 

“Why not now?” Harry asked, hurt by Snape’s dismissal. “Don’t you trust me?” 

“I trust you to act in your own self-interest using what little reason you actually possess,” responded Snape waspishly. 

“Oh, come on!” Harry angrily protested. “What have I done to give you doubt? You know I'm going to defeat Voldemort. Why wouldn’t I?” 

“As usual, you’ve entirely missed my point and only further illustrated why I desire to wait. You are rash and reckless-” Harry opened his mouth to interrupt, but Snape continued, “you still speak without thinking and continually jump to conclusions entirely devoid of logic.” 

"So? I can still fight him!"

"You need to learn to think! To act with reason and logic instead of blind bravado."

Harry scoffed. "And you think I can't?"

"Not nearly enough."

“Then tell me exactly what I’ve done wrong! I’m really trying. I’ve agreed to follow your plans, I allow them to treat me like shit, I work my arse off training… When have I messed up in front of him?” 

“You admitted yourself that you almost betrayed our cover in the throne room-” 

“I thought they were going to kill Hermione!” 

“That doesn’t matter,” said Snape dismissively, shaking his head. “You should have let her die-” 

“I couldn’t!” 

“This is war, Potter! People die!” 

“I can’t watch my friends die and do nothing!” Harry said unapologetically, clenching his fists. If there was a chance he could save them, he would. 

“You must!” Snape insisted. “If you had attacked the Dark Lord you would have been subdued and she would've died anyway. All you would’ve achieved was the delay of our plans. When will it ever sink into that thick head of yours? You need to play your part completely and without fail up until the very end.” 

Harry stared at his fists. What Snape said made sense in a way, but it felt wrong. What sort of person would he be if he stood by and watched others get killed? “I'm trying. But I just can’t sacrifice my friends.” 

“And if you don’t defeat the Dark Lord more of them will die,” said Snape, sounding as if he could not care less about their deaths. “Some lives must be sacrificed. It is the only way.” 

“Not my best friends.” Harry desperately shook his head. “There must be a way to save them.” 

“You are helpless to save them at this time. The only person you can protect right now is yourself.” 

“Then help me!” Harry jumped to his feet. “Help me defeat him right now! I'm ready! Tell me what needs to be done to destroy him and I’ll do it! I’ll do anything I can to keep them alive!" He straightened his back and met Snape's eyes with unwavering conviction. "I don't care if I have to die. I want him dead.” 

“Stupid Gryffindor martyr,” Snape sneered. “You aren’t responsible for their lives or their deaths. You must-” 

“I'm responsible if I don’t do everything I can to prevent the deaths! I'm responsible if I let him live while others die!” 

“Then master your emotions. Look at you. You’ve lost your temper already,” Snape pointed out, sounding smug. “How will you ever be ready unless you learn to control your feelings? Do you want more people to die? Do you enjoy knowing that people are being killed because you are undisciplined? If you don’t learn to play your part perfectly, more people will die and their deaths _will_ be your fault.” 

Snape’s words were like knives in his chest. “I’m doing everything I can!” Harry gasped for breath. "What more do you want me to do?"

"You need to train-"

"I am training! I'VE BEEN TRAINING!"

Snape arched an eye brow at Harry and stared down at him as if he were a obstinate first year. "Right now, you are acting like a child; whinging because I won't tell you what you want to hear. You need to calm down and-"

“How can I be calm? You… you tell me that if I play my part my friends will die… but if I try to fight him, they'll die too. I won't accept that. I won't let people die because of me.” 

“Stop whinging.” Snape’s voice was as cruel as his expression. “You can’t save everybody.” 

“You’re heartless!” 

“I’m alive!” 

“And what costs have you paid to stay that way? You’ve-” 

“More than you can ever comprehend, you stupid brat,” Snape snarled. 

“YOU KILLED MY PARENTS! Who else was a ‘necessity’?! Who else has died so you can live?!” 

“SHUT UP! YOU KNOW NOTHING!” Snape yelled as he leapt to his feet so fast his book fell to the floor with a loud crack. 

“AND FOR WHAT? TO BE VOLDEMORT'S BITCH? A FUCKING LAP DOG?” 

"YOU LITTLE-"

“EVERYONE HATES YOU!" screamed Harry. "EVEN THE DEATH EATERS HATE YOU!" 

“THIS IS WAR! YOU IMBECILIC-” 

“I HOPE HE KILLS YOU! I HOPE YOU DIE! YOU DESERVE TO DIE ALONE WITHOUT ANY-!” 

Snape practically flew off the dais at Harry. Harry held his ground, raising his fists. Snape struck first, his fist flying through the air towards Harry’s jaw. Harry ducked and punched Snape in the stomach, his fist disappearing into the black folds of Snape’s robes. He punched again, aiming higher and felt his knuckles connect with the folds of fabric covering Snape’s ribs. Snape struck him in the side of the face, his fist slamming into Harry’s left cheek bone. Harry ignored the pain and aimed another punch at Snape’s nose. Snape tried to grab Harry’s wrist, but Harry quickly pulled back and kicked him in the shin. Again, Harry slammed his foot into Snape’s leg and was about to land another punch when a cuff suddenly appeared around Harry's ankle and he was bound to the floor, his kick aborted half way. Caught off balance, he fell, barely managing to land without hurting himself. Snape pounced on him, trying to catch his cuffs while Harry rained blows upon him.

“YOU BASTARD! FIGHT ME WITHOUT MAGIC!” Harry yanked his arm from Snape's grasp and smashed hard into Snape's face. He felt bone break as his fist connected with the large nose, making a loud and satisfying crunch. With a growl, Snape grabbed Harry’s hair and slammed the back of his head into the floor. Blinding pain shot through Harry’s skull and he couldn't see for several seconds. It was long enough for Snape to grab Harry’s flailing hands and force them above his head, pinning them down with magic. Harry jerked his hips, throwing Snape off to the side and then lashing out his foot, kicking Snape in his broken nose. Blood spurted down Snape's chest as he fell back, clutching his nose. 

Harry yanked at the bonds binding him, trying to get into an attack position. “YOU'RE DEAD!!” 

Snape lunged forward, closed his hands around Harry’s neck, and squeezed hard. Harry arched his back; his breath cut off. Snape’s face, red and distorted in rage, barely looked human. For the first time in weeks, Harry feared him. 

“I should let you die, you worthless brat,” Snape snarled, giving Harry’s neck a squeeze so hard, he was afraid it would snap. “I don’t know why I bother trying. I should have followed his plans, but no, I wanted to keep you alive. What a mistake that was; you aren’t worth it.” 

Blood pounded in Harry’s head and his vision swam. He closed his eyes and let his body go limp. He could only hope Voldemort would arrive soon. 

“Give me one good reason why I should keep you alive,” Snape growled, his grip still tight around Harry's throat. “Tell me why I should let you live.” 

Harry tried to speak but Snape's fingers blocked his air. 

Snape instantly removed his hands from Harry’s windpipe and released him, rolling off to the side. Harry turned his head away, gagging and gasping for air, his neck aching from the tight grasp Snape had held on it. He heard Snape breathing harshly next to him. A potion floated over to him and landed on the floor near his face. 

“A painkiller. Take it,” Snape spit out before he released Harry's hands from the spell pinning them against the floor. Harry heard his footsteps retreating and then the door slammed shut. 

With shaking fingers, Harry uncorked the vial and took a large gulp. Now with the adrenaline wearing off, his whole body ached, especially his knuckles which were bruised and torn. He carefully sat up, trying to ignore the sharp pain in his head. He felt something warm drip down onto his thighs and he looked down to see drops of blood. He touched his face and wiped away blood from the side of his mouth where Snape had punched him. 

Harry was livid. He wanted to rip the chain out of the floor and chase after Snape; give him the beating he deserved. Harry grabbed the chain binding his ankle to the floor and tugged and pulled with all his might. He struggled until he had completely exhausted himself; finally falling back against the floor, panting for breath. 

The door opened and Snape walked back in, his footsteps calmer and less hurried. “I will need to put this potion on your injuries to prevent bruising. Where are you hurt?” 

“My neck, my cheek, my knuckles, and the back of my head,” Harry answered, avoiding Snape's eyes. He seethed with anger at Snape but if he got into another fight with him, they’d just end up hurting each other again. As much as he hated Snape at the moment, he didn’t want him replaced with another prison guard. 

Snape knelt and began to rub the potion into Harry’s neck, his fingers tender again. When he turned Harry’s face to heal his cheek, Harry saw that he had already healed his own injuries or hid them behind glamours. Snape remained silent until he began to rub the potion into Harry’s knuckles. “I have done and will continue to do many things which I personally find reprehensible. If hating me eases your grief then by all means continue. However, you must put aside your anger for me.” He stood. “The Dark Lord is your enemy. Focus your hate on him.” 

“Then stop attacking me!” 

“And allow you to hurl childish insults and accusations at me with no retaliation?” Snape glared at him. “I have ignored some of your egregious behaviour for the sake of unity, but there are limits to my leniency.” 

“I said nothing but the truth,” Harry began. When he saw Snape’s eyebrows dart in together in an expression of extreme displeasure he quickly added, “Okay, the friend stuff was just me being mad, but you were responsible for the death of my parents. Don’t-” 

Snape’s expression smoothed back into its normal neutrality. “I am.” 

It startled Harry to hear him say it. He always assumed that hearing Snape admit his responsibility for the death of his parents would make him even angrier with Snape, but for some reason it had the opposite effect. He was surprised to find much of the anger he held for Snape concerning his parents start to drain away. He became more concerned with the need to know. “Why?” 

Snape gazed at Harry, his face still neutral. “I did not know that... your mother was pregnant when I informed the Dark Lord of what I had overheard. I cannot deny that I … wished your father dead.… If I happened across him while on an assignment with the Death Eaters, I most likely would have killed him even if he hadn’t been in the Order. I’ve never mourned James’s death. It was a coincidence … a twist of fate, that I overheard the prophecy which was later interpreted to refer to you and your parents.” 

‘I didn’t intend to kill your parents, but I probably would’ve' wasn’t much of an apology, but Harry knew it was the only apology he was ever going to get from a black-hearted snake like Snape. They silently regarded each other for a moment, Harry glaring and Snape watching without apparent emotion. After a few seconds, Snape took out his wand and removed Harry’s chains with a wave. “You must return to your cage before the Dark Lord arrives.” 

Harry stood and walked back down to his cell, Snape following behind him. Suddenly Snape began walking faster, brushing past Harry into the cell to spell lunch on the table. 

“You will have to bathe in the sink, they have arrived early.” Snape stepped back past the bars and closed them behind Harry. “They will probably not ask to see you right away, but eat quickly,” Snape said as he strode off rapidly. Harry looked over his lunch. He'd been given a thick beef stew, two rolls, and an apple. He hid the rolls and apple in his blankets and ate the stew as quickly as he could. 

The Death Eaters hadn't come for him by the time he finished his meal, so he took a bath in the sink, being careful to avoid the parts of his body where he was injured. Snape was such a bastard. Harry had the distinct impression that Snape was trying to provoke him to anger. If it was a form of training, it was such an arsehole thing to do. He didn’t need to be trained every waking moment. Snape knew Harry didn't have any reasons to control his emotions when they were together. Besides, Snape lost his temper himself when he attacked first. Not only that, he cheated when he knew he couldn’t win in a fair fight. Fucking bastard.

Harry looked around his cell. He didn’t think it would be a good idea to try to read or wank with the Death Eaters in the house, which left exercise as the only thing he could do while waiting. He did sit-ups until the painkiller started to wear off and his head ached. He wasn’t sure if Voldemort would care if he hurt when Snape wasn't with him, but he didn’t want to risk it. He cleaned himself off in the sink and then lay down on his bed. 

With nothing else to do, he imagined what trials his best friends were facing in their hunt for the Horcrux. Once more, he wished he'd devised a secret method of communication between himself, Ron and Hermione so that he could help them with their progress. Maybe Snape could make another pair of mirrors and find a way to slip one to them. He was far too clever to not find a way to contact Ron and Hermione if that was what he needed. Snape was being overly paranoid to refuse to include them in his planning. Harry's friends wouldn’t betray him or Snape, no matter what was done to them. 

Snape stepped through the library door. "Your presence is required."

Harry nodded and walked over to him, trying to read his face for any sign of what was to come, but it was as neutral as ever. 

“On your knees, you will crawl up.” 

Harry dropped to his hands and knees and crawled beside Snape as they made their way through the library. He was far more curious than nervous or frightened about what was going to happen this evening. He had the feeling the torture would lessen now that they thought they'd broken him. Snape conjured the leather collar and leash at the top of the stairs and led Harry to the practice room, Harry crawling along after him. 

Even with his head down and his eyes on the carpet, Harry could tell the room was full of Death Eaters. They were apparently having some sort of Death Eater party. To his disappointment, _Muffliato_ hit his ears. Why didn’t Snape let him listen? Was it because Snape still regarded him as too reckless and rash? Two Death Eaters approached Snape and he stopped to talk with them. Harry sat on his heels and very carefully looked around the room as best he could without raising his head. The room had been cleared of all furniture except for the kitchen table which rested in the middle. He couldn’t see above the chairs without raising his head, but all the chairs had covers on them and now looked quite comfortable. The vast majority of the people in the room were dressed in black, making it difficult to distinguish between individuals and the number present. Based on the number of chairs he could see, he guessed about eighteen people would be dining tonight. 

After several minutes, everyone in the room turned towards the direction of the door. Voldemort must’ve arrived if he wasn't there already. Harry snuck an upward glance to the side and saw a blond Death Eater he'd never seen before raising his glass in a toast. What were they celebrating? Voldemort’s supposed control over Harry? Harry shifted his eyes back to Snape’s boots. After far too many minutes, everyone approached the table. Snape tugged tightly on the leash and Harry crawled after him. The Potions Master took his place on Voldemort’s right and Harry knelt before Voldemort before he positioned himself between them with his head down and his hands folded in his lap. He hoped he wouldn’t be forced to sit through the whole dinner. That might be even more torturous than being whipped, especially if it continued on for hours. 

Unfortunately, Harry’s luck deserted him. The smell of food filled the air and Harry knew he’d be stuck through dinner. The lunch had been small and the scent of the food was intoxicating. He shifted slightly, hoping his stomach wouldn't growl. Snape sensed Harry’s hunger and lowered his hand, offering some meat to him. It filled Harry with revulsion to be fed like a dog, but he knew he wouldn’t get food any other way and he needed to convince Voldemort he was the perfect slave. Harry accepted the food which was some sort of poultry he didn’t recognise. Snape fed him several more pieces of meat along with some bread soaked in a thick gravy. After giving Harry a decent amount, he ran his fingers through Harry’s hair the way someone might stroke a pet dog. He then turned back to the table, ignoring Harry once more. 

 

Harry sighed inwardly. He hoped he wouldn’t be forced through more of these; he was already bored out of his skull. After what seemed like forever, Snape stood and led Harry away from the table. The Death Eaters mingled in the room and various individuals approached Snape, conversing with him at length. Harry gave up on trying to tell them apart when a familiar scent filled his nostrils and he noticed two new individuals walking toward Snape. One wore femininely cut black robes and the other wore scuffed boots that stuck out when he paused before Harry. The feminine one stepped closer to Snape and Harry instantly recognised who she was – Narcissa. The Death Eater accompanying her must be Draco. Harry’s face burned as he thought of what he must look like to Draco. He kept his eyes on the boots, not wanting to raise his face and see a superior look on Draco’s haughty features. Harry wanted them to leave, but they stayed and spoke to Snape for far too long. Finally, another Death Eater arrived and they left Snape, walking towards the door that led out of the practice room and into the hallway connected to the outside. Where were they going? Harry tried to watch them as discretely as possible, but Death Eaters kept getting in the way. 

Snape tugged on Harry’s leash and he reluctantly turned and followed the Potions Master, they walked with the other Death Eaters to the throne room. Snape paused before the throne in which the Dark Lord rested and Harry bowed low to the floor in front of Voldemort. Three Death Eaters approached on Harry’s right, one standing very close to Harry. After several minutes, he felt a sharp tug on his leash away from Snape. Harry crawled towards the direction he was being pulled, but his new master was impatient and tugged upward with such force, Harry was forced to his feet. He stumbled forward, glancing up to see a Death Eater who looked barely older than himself. The young Death Eater had brown hair, dark eyes, and would have been handsome were it not for a long scar that ran down his left cheek from below the eye to right above his lip. He had a twisted grin on his face as he pulled Harry closer, saying something Harry couldn’t understand, even though the _Muffliato_ was wearing off. 

Harry dropped his eyes and carefully constructed his walls. He guessed it was time for the actual torture. The young Death Eater grabbed his chin and forced his head up. Harry tried to keep his gaze as submissive as possible, looking at the Death Eater’s mouth instead of his eyes. He knew his eyes were what usually gave him away. The Death Eater released Harry’s chin and turned him around. He shoved Harry’s shoulders down, pushing him to his knees. A boot on his back forced him to the floor in a kneeling position and he folded his arms in his customary gesture of submission.

He caught a few words as the spell finally left him, “…bow before ya, ain’t it?” If they wanted him to bow before them, he would.

Someone grabbed his hair and forced him to lift his head. A brutish-looking blond knelt down beside him. “He’s been trained to be a good little pet."

Harry focused on the marble.

“I’ve heard he sucks Snape’s cock every day,” said the one with the leash, pulling on it lightly as he talked. Harry clamped down on his anger and humiliation and gazed passively at the floor.

“Is that so?” The blond Death Eater pressed his thumb against Harry’s lips, parting them slightly. “Open your mouth for me.”

Harry opened his mouth and the Death Eater stuck his thumb inside. Harry resisted the urge to bite down on the invading digit. The Death Eater pulled it out and released Harry’s hair before standing up. “I bet he’s got quite good at it,” he said derisively.

The boot disappeared from his back and the Death Eater who'd been pressing Harry down walked to stand in front of him. “On your knees,” he commanded, tugging on the leash to pull Harry upward. The Death Eater stepped in close, holding the leash tightly with his right hand as he unzipped himself. “Let’s see what Snape’s taught you,” he growled.

Harry was revolted at what he was being ordered to do. He'd hoped with Avery out of the way, he wouldn’t have to worry about being raped again. The idea of being sexual with any Death Eater other than Snape disgusted him, and he was particularly repulsed because he was being forced to suck cock. It wasn't that he didn't want to give head, he was actually a bit curious about it. He was willing to try it on Snape, but not on some random Death Eater and certainly not to please Voldemort. The few choices remaining to him were slowly being taken away and he hated it. Being raped by Voldemort's followers was not what Harry had in mind when he agreed to go along with Snape's plan. He put up with the torture and degradation hoping to keep his friends safe, along with the chance to train in order to kill Voldemort, but he hadn't agreed to a possible future of endless rapes. 

For a moment, he considered refusing to obey the command so he would be physically tortured instead, but he remembered what Snape told him about needing to maintain their charade. No matter what Snape said, Harry knew he was capable of being mature and in control of his emotions if he set his mind to it. He would prove to Snape that he wasn't reckless and hot-headed. Whatever form of torture Voldemort and his followers threw at him, he would passively take it like Snape wanted. If giving the Death Eater head was what it took to demonstrate he had discipline and self-control, then he would allow them to humiliate and use him. Harry buried his abhorrence and forced himself to remain submissive.

The Death Eater pulled out his penis which was still hardening. He grabbed the back of Harry’s head and shoved Harry's face towards his crotch. “Suck my dick."

Even though the Death Eater wasn’t very big, Harry knew he’d choke if he let the Death Eater thrust the full length of his cock into his mouth. He lifted up his hands and curled them around the shaft as he used his tongue on the head as Snape had done to him. It tasted just as disgustingly bitter as it smelled and Harry almost gagged. He pushed away his revulsion and began to try to bring the Death Eater to orgasm. Harry was determined to have as much control over what he was being made to do as he possibly could and he figured the quicker he got the Death Eater off, the quicker he would be returned to his cell.

“He knows how to suck cock,” the Death Eater sneered appreciatively.

“What a slut,” the third one said with a bark of laughter.

Harry worked at tuning them out as he closed his eyes and bobbed his head mechanically. He tried to use every single technique Snape performed on him and what he remembered from reading the books. 

Apparently his memory was good, because the Death Eater was soon fully hard. The Death Eater was about the same length as Harry but only half as thick. Harry focused on the fact that he was more of a man than his rapist to distract himself from the vile task he had before him.

The Death Eaters were calling him names and talking as if he were the one that initiated the blow job and was enjoying it. Harry continued to ignore them as best as he could, he just wanted to get through the ordeal and return to his cell as soon as possible. He quickly became proficient at handling the small amount of cock he took into his mouth so when he relaxed his hands in a moment of lowered guard, the Death Eater thrust more of his prick down Harry's throat causing him to gag and throw up. Harry quickly pulled back and swallowed the vomit down with a struggle. He wasn’t sure how they’d punish him if he puked on them, but he didn’t want to find out. Harry returned his hands to the Death Eater's cock and did everything he could to try to get him to come.

Luckily, it wasn’t long before the Death Eater knocked Harry’s hands away and gripped his cock tightly in his fist. Harry sat back and closed his mouth, relieved that this would finally be over.

“Open your mouth, you whore!” the Death Eater commanded as he grabbed the side of Harry’s throat, using his thumb to keep Harry’s chin up.

Harry closed his eyes and opened his mouth just in time to feel the warm come spatter across his face and into his mouth. It tasted as disgusting as one of Snape’s most vile potions, but he forced himself to keep his mouth open until the Death Eater’s ragged breaths stopped. Harry swallowed the spunk down as best he could, feeling sick and degraded. He was beginning to shake and he wanted to puke all over the floor, but he held it in, swallowing hard as he tried to calm himself down.

“Just what I needed,” the Death Eater sighed. 

“My turn,” said the blond.

“I want to fuck him,” the third said.

The blond grabbed the leash and yanked Harry over to him. “Fine, do it while he sucks my dick.” 

“I’ll be taking him now,” Snape said firmly as he stepped over and snatched the leash from the blond’s hand. 

"We weren’t finished!” the blond protested. 

“The Dark Lord has given me permission. If you have a problem with his decisions, perhaps you should take it up with him."

The Death Eaters grumbled to themselves but walked off. Harry was relieved to watch them go. He hated it when they used him sexually, but if he was to be raped, he would much rather it be done by Snape. He shifted to kneel before Snape, waiting for him to unbutton himself. 

“On your hands and knees,” Snape ordered. 

Harry quickly turned around and positioned himself with his legs shoulder width apart and his arse up in the air. He was glad that Snape wasn’t going to make him give him head. At least he didn’t have to do anything except let Snape rape him. 

A line of fire shot across his buttocks and Harry gasped out loud in pain and surprise. A second joined the first and he stifled his cry. The memories of Snape's previous painful whippings had almost been forgot until the first tearing strike cut into his skin. Harry discretely closed his legs as the lash continued to fall across his naked body. The last thing he wanted was to be struck across his genitals. When the lash finally tore across Harry's upper thighs, his screams were ripped from his lungs. SHarry's keening howls of pain echoed throughout the throne room. Soon, Harry's entire back, from his shoulders to his knees, was searing white-hot with pain. His limbs shook from the excruciating torture and he could barely hold himself upright. 

Snape finally stepped away from Harry and tugged on his leash to direct him back towards the throne. Harry crawled stiffly after him, pain shooting through his tortured body as he focused on putting one foot and hand before the other. He barely managed a bow before Voldemort. 

“Thank you, my Lord,” Snape said as he bowed before the Dark Lord. “I will return him to his cage now.” He turned and led Harry away from the dais. Harry could hardly crawl after him, he was in such horrendous pain. Snape vanished the collar and leash once the door to the throne room closed behind them, allowing Harry to get to his feet as it hurt too much to continue to crawl.

Snape did not carry Harry to his cage this time but walked silently behind him. As soon as Harry made it to the hallway he collapsed, the violent shaking of his limbs making him unable to keep walking or standing on his own two feet. A tremendous shock of pain coursed through him as he hit the hard, tiled floor, nearly causing him to black out. 

Snape removed a green vial from his robes. “Take this.” 

“What is it?” Harry asked as he uncorked it.

“A painkiller.” 

“Different bottle,” he commented, taking a large swig. He re-corked it and handed it back to Snape whose face still wore the same cold, cruel mask he used in the throne room. “I think the dinner party was the worst torture yet,” Harry joked, trying to relieve the tension.

Harry was hoping for a smile, but Snape did not appreciate his sense of humour. The Potions Master's expression darkened, his eyebrows drawing together in a line thicker than Harry had ever seen them. Snape tucked the bottle back into his robes, watching silently as Harry carefully crawled back into his cell. He closed the bars with a flick of his wand and walked off without a word.

Harry waited for the painkiller to kick in before he gingerly made his way over to the sink. He gargled and brushed his teeth using the entire bottle of mouthwash to erase all lingering taste of the Death Eater that had raped him.

Feeling rather proud of himself, Harry lay carefully down on his bed, waiting for Snape to return. Snape had to have seen how well he performed and Harry couldn’t wait to ask him if he still thought Harry to be temperamental. Snape couldn't say Harry was rash or reckless after the way he controlled his actions and reactions the entire night. He wanted to see Snape passively allow a Death Eater to fuck his mouth or go through half of what he'd been through in this prison and still call him undisciplined.

Since Harry proved he could completely control himself, the only way the Death Eaters could get to him was by attacking his friends and they were safe as long as they kept their heads. If letting the Death Eaters hurt him also kept Ron and Hermione safe, he would let them do that, at least for the time being.

His thoughts turned to the Death Eater who forced him to give head. As his mind relived what he was forced to do in the throne room, his anger flared up so hot and powerful that he shook violently with rage. An intense burning, prickly feeling arose behind his eyes and for a moment, he had a very satisfying fantasy of cutting off the bastard’s dick and forcing him to eat it. He wanted to slam his fist through a wall. Instead, he worked at suppressing his anger; pushing down his fury until he could no longer feel it. He wasn’t going to give any of them the satisfaction of a reaction, even when he wasn’t in their presence. Later, he'd take his revenge when he’d make them kill each other. If they wouldn't kill each other, he'd kill them himself. 

Harry wanted to speak to Snape that evening, but he suddenly felt exhausted and knew he wouldn’t be able to stay awake much longer. He suspected the vial with the painkiller Snape gave him to drink must've contained a sleeping potion as well. It disappointed him, as any questions on how the night had gone would have to wait until tomorrow. Harry sighed wearily and slid gratefully under the sheets, falling asleep almost instantly.


	41. Chapter 41

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

_Merry Christmas and a Happy Holidays!!_

 

Harry woke well before Snape arrived to serve him breakfast. His torso had been bandaged sometime during the night and he didn't like how the bindings confined his movements. He found the edges and yanked them free, unwrapping himself carefully. As soon as he had stripped off all the bandages, he tested his range of motion delicately, stretching out on his bed. He felt perfectly fine and wondered if the painkiller Snape had given him was still in his system. Whippings normally left him quite sore, but he didn't feel mentally fuzzy like he normally did when under the potion’s influence.

He hoped he'd be able to train for a full session today. The events of the previous evening left him wanting to do some form of hard training where he could lose himself and pour out his anger. He tried to read, but his mind didn't want to focus, so he sat on the floor and continued to stretch as he waited for Snape.

The Potions Master finally entered in a cloud of black, quickly stepping through the bars and spelling breakfast on the table. "Get dressed."

It was an order Harry never expected to hear. "Are we going somewhere?" he asked as he stepped over to his bed and retrieved his clothing from under his mattress.

"There won't be any visitors today," Snape commented as he sat down and conjured tea for himself. He seemed unconcerned that Harry had removed the bandages.

Harry nodded and took his seat after he had finished dressing. He tore into his breakfast hungrily, stuffing the sausages down his throat before asking, "How come I don't hurt?"

"I invented a spell that causes excruciating pain yet fades fairly quickly. You should be completely free of its effects by now," Snape explained.

"That's neat." Harry was dying to learn how to invent spells. He planned on hounding Snape for lessons once his magic was restored to him. "You don't have to make it very painful, you know. I can always fake it, I'm good at that."

Snape didn't say anything in response. He sipped his tea casually, his eyes on Harry's plate.

Harry dug into his omelette. "Have you learned anything new?"

"Of course I have," scoffed Snape. "What do you imagine I do during my spare moments of free time?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Have you learned anything new about the Hallows or the Horcruxes?"

"I have currently set plans in motion in order to obtain ownership of the Elder Wand, should it still be in young Malfoy's possession. His parents have agreed to allow him to visit for weekly tutoring."

"Brilliant." Harry grinned at him. "D'you think you could train both of us at the same time?"

"Don't be stupid," Snape answered dismissively. "He's-"

"I don't mean it like that. You could have him cast spells on me."

"I knew what you meant, and don't interrupt," Snape said sharply. "As I've told you countless times, it is better you remain away from the other Death Eaters, even relatively harmless ones such as Draco. Can't you eat without spilling food everywhere?"

"It's very difficult to eat omelettes with a spoon," Harry informed him through gritted teeth.

"I'm sure even a simpleton like you could manage to figure it out if you actually tried."

Harry wanted to mouth back to the git or punch him in his huge nose again, but he suspected Snape wanted him to lose his temper. He forced his anger down and focused on his meal, determined to show Snape he was in control of his emotions. He finished his breakfast and Snape waited impatiently by the bars while Harry rushed through his morning routine. The Potions Master strode out of the cell and Harry hurried after him.

"Why did you use _Muffliato_ on me last night?"

"The Dark Lord would have expected it. Besides, it would be best for you to not overhear comments about yourself. You might lose your temper." Snape led him into the practice room which once again contained its normal collection of furniture.

"Look, just because I lose my temper around you doesn't mean I'll lose it around them," Harry insisted as he watched Snape spell the balls. "Didn't you see how well I performed last night?"

Snape's back was towards Harry as he waved his wand and the balls started flying around the walls of the room. "I did," he answered tersely. "But you still need work." He flicked his wand, and the attack began.

Harry twisted out of the way of three of the balls and began to weave around the room. Snape spelled anywhere from three to eight balls to attack him at once and it was quite a challenging exercise. Harry was determined to prove his mastery of any task Snape gave him, so he pushed himself as hard as he could, dodging and evading as if his life depended on it. He had become quite adept at avoiding the projectiles by the time he needed to stop for a break.

"I need to rest or else my lungs are going to hurt," he informed the other wizard as he sat down and five balls quickly smacked into him. Snape stopped the exercise immediately and put down the book he was reading.

"Do you need any painkillers?"

"No." Harry shook his head. "Not right now." He tugged on his shirt to fan himself. Even though he had put on antiperspirant that morning, he felt very sweaty. He was used to practising without any clothes and he found that now he didn't like them much. If he had something tight to wear over his crotch, then he might prefer it, but his pyjama bottoms were loose and only got in the way. He stripped off his shirt and was about to remove his bottoms when Snape spoke up.

"What are you doing?" Snape asked in a rough tone.

"I'm all sweaty," Harry complained. "I've got used to training naked and I prefer it now."

"Put your shirt back on," Snape ordered sharply. "It's foolish of you to assume that you will be nude for the final battle."

"I wasn't assuming that," Harry protested. "I can dodge in clothes fine, I just hate feeling sweaty."

"You will wear them and that's final," insisted Snape with a glare.

Harry had been trying to ignore Snape's nasty remarks and dirty looks all morning but at that comment his patience ended and the urge to attack Snape suddenly flooded through him. Instead, he dug his fingers into the carpet to stop himself from hitting the other wizard. "You know….you don't have to try to train me to control my temper all the time. I'm actually quite good at it when I need to be."

"If you are rested, you should return to your training." Snape flicked his wand and the balls began their dance about the room once more.

Harry resolutely stood and began to practise. He poured out his anger at Snape into his training, so by the time the Potions Master stopped the exercise for lunch; Harry knew his legs would hurt if he continued the lessons.

"My muscles are sore," he informed Snape when the wizard stepped back into the room, floating a lunch tray behind him. "I don't think I'll be able to do a second session."

"Then you will aim," Snape said simply.

Harry dug into his steak and kidney pie with relish. "If you do manage to take ownership of the Elder Wand from Draco, are you going to transfer it to me? What happens if Voldemort gets the Wand but you have control of it? Should we try to take it from him?"

"That will depend on the circumstances in which we approach the final battle," answered Snape. "I will decide closer to the final event."

Harry frowned. "You don't know what we're going to do, do you?"

"Of course I do," Snape retorted in a curt voice. "It would be incredibly stupid to develop a single plan and expect the Dark Lord to conform to it. I have devised several different plans to account for the actions the Dark Lord is most likely to carry out."

"And once the final Horcrux is found and destroyed, you'll pick the one you want to use?" Harry guessed.

"Precisely." Snape nodded.

Harry was dying to hear the details of the plans but he knew Snape wouldn't have changed his opinion about Harry's control since yesterday. If anything, today he seemed more irritable than ever.

"What were you and the other Death Eaters talking about at the party last night?" Harry asked. "What are they planning?"

"That's not your concern," Snape informed him firmly.

"I think it is my concern," Harry answered sharply, his anger rising although he hid it as best he could. "Especially since you said they were talking about me."

"I'm sure even you have the ability to imagine what sorts of comments were being passed around," Snape sneered.

Harry thought of the Death Eater who called him a slag while forcing Harry to suck him off. He could imagine what they'd said just fine. He stared at his mostly finished plate. "So … does that mean Voldemort thinks I'm broken?"

"I don't believe so. He didn't bring Nagini with him, which suggests to me that he still retains doubts about you," Snape pointed out.

"We'll just have to come up with more ways to try to convince him then," Harry said confidently. "I can take anything now. The only way they can really hurt me is by going after my friends."

"Finish your meal and return to your training." Snape stood and sent away the empty dishes before he left the practice room. 

Harry frowned as he watched the older wizard leave. Why was Snape in such a foul mood? Harry suspected the dinner party hadn't gone as planned. He didn't understand why Snape was so reluctant to share details of what went on among the Death Eaters with him. Harry had the feeling he was being kept in the dark as much as possible and only told the bare minimum of what he needed to know. While he had been fairly hot tempered before, he thought he'd improved dramatically and could now be trusted with more knowledge of the plans. It infuriated him how little Snape told him. This was his life and possibly his death. To face Voldemort in battle would be the most important thing he'd ever do in his entire life and he needed to know as much as possible about the circumstances surrounding his future. He could think of no reason for Snape to continue to hide information from him other than lack of trust.

Harry knew he'd proven his self control, time and time again in the throne room. What more did Snape want from him? What else could he do to convince Snape he wasn't brash and reckless anymore? Harry did admit he'd probably always be a bit hot-headed and doubted he'd ever be as unreadable as Snape was most of the time. However, he thought he was a pretty good Occlumens, even if he didn't Occlude his mind the way Snape taught him. Hiding behind his walls worked well for him and Snape admitted he didn't have any idea how he managed to Occlude without using magic. Didn't that imply that Harry could possibly be an Occlumens to rival Snape if he did it entirely without magic?

 

Snape returned with the laser pointer and tossed it to Harry, who deftly shot up his free hand and caught it. Snape spelled away the chain from Harry's cuff before setting up the training room for aiming practice.

Harry was determined to get some straight answers from Snape; however, he knew this wasn't the time to press the issue. He'd wait until Snape was in a better mood and then he'd lay out his argument logically so the other wizard couldn't refuse him. He remembered Snape once argued that since Harry kept secrets from him, he could keep secrets from Harry. In order to help quicken their progress together, Harry'd given up his secrets, but Snape hadn't done the same. It wasn't right and Harry was determined to balance the scales.

He began aiming as soon as Snape returned to his seat to read. His skill at this task had greatly improved and he grew bored after a few hours. "Is there some other form of training I could do that doesn't involve running around? Or maybe I could take a painkiller and go back to dodging…. D'you have any potions which would help my muscles heal quickly?"

"None that will work instantaneously," Snape answered. "The potion I normally give you after practice is fairly effective and should return you to normalcy in an hour or two."

"Okay, I'm finished for now. Can we resume-"

"May we."

"May we resume after dinner? You could go brew or something if you wanted to." Harry stood.

"Follow me." Snape stood and lead Harry back down to his cell. Harry stripped and stepped into the shower while Snape floated Harry's clothing out of the bathroom and left for the laundry room. Harry was tempted to follow him and demand a look inside, but he didn't want to press minor issues until after he had a successful bid for the most important one.

Harry took a long relaxing shower, enjoying the feel of the hot water cascading over him. He began to harden as he cleaned his penis. His thoughts took an uninvited turn back towards the memory of the night before and he released his dick, ashamed of what had happened to him. No. He wasn't going to let them get to him. He'd always enjoyed wanking in the showers at Hogwarts and there wasn't any reason he shouldn't enjoy it here. If he stopped pleasuring himself because of what they did to him, then he was letting them win. 

He wrapped his fingers around his shaft and began to slowly stroke himself, concentrating on his pleasure. Maybe he would get sex tonight. He might even be able to make Snape give him head. He leaned back against the wall, one hand fondling his balls, while the other slid up and down his cock. He teased the head with his thumb, flickering over the delicate gland until he was biting his lip.

He closed his eyes and circled his fingers as he began to wank himself, using his foreskin to prolong the sensation. He imagined Ginny had joined him in the shower and was rubbing him off. The water would stream down over her breasts and over her thighs. She'd smile at him and say, 'Let me help you with that, Harry' and then she'd-

"Potter-" Snape stepped into the room.

Harry's eyes snapped open, his hand frozen mid-stroke, startled by the sudden appearance of the other wizard. Snape stood stock-still as he stared back at Harry before he quickly turned and left, his robes billowing out behind him like sails.

"Hurry it up!" Snape demanded as he disappeared from view.

Harry quickly wanked himself to completion, biting back a moan as he came, spilling his seed all over his hand. Feeling a lot more relaxed, he hurriedly rinsed and turned off the shower. He dried and then spread the towel on the rug to rub in the muscle potion. Snape hadn't returned to the room by the time he finished with the parts he could reach, so he grabbed the bottle in one hand and his towel in the other, and stepped out to search for Snape.

He found the other wizard in the cell, refitting Harry's bed with clean sheets. Harry's clothes were folded neatly on the table.

"Can you put the muscle potion on my back?" Harry asked him as he stepped over to the bedside.

Snape glanced at him. "Turn around."

Harry did so and held the potion to the side. Snape briskly stepped forward and snatched the vial from his fingers. He drizzled the potion on Harry's back and very clinically rubbed the potion into Harry's back, touching him as little as possible. Normally he was sure to massage the lotion into the young wizard's entire back, even parts Harry could reach himself such as his shoulders and the small of his back. This time, he only rubbed it into the areas Harry couldn't reach himself and touched him as little as possible the entire time. Snape left with the vial once he finished.

"I will return to bring you dinner." He strode off, not giving Harry a second glance. 

Harry frowned as he watched the other wizard leave. Snape was definitely acting strange. Was he embarrassed over having walked in while he was wanking off? No… throughout the entire day he had been rude and distant. Before, Snape often touched him casually or engaged in friendly conversation. Now Snape seemed determined to avoid him.

Harry laid the towel on the floor and stretched until the potion kicked in and he could exercise without causing himself pain. He had the feeling something had changed, but he wasn't sure what. Did it have to do with their fight the previous day? They both said a lot of hurtful things to each other and Snape seemed the type to hold onto grudges. Harry stood and walked over to the bars. If they were to work together, then they needed to get along. He banged his cuffs against the bars, waiting five seconds between each deep clang.

"POTTER!" Snape bellowed as he stormed through the library door half a minute later. "What do you think you're doing?"

Harry stepped back. He certainly hadn't expected that reaction; Snape was furious. "I was summoning you. You said yourself that no one would arrive today."

"Are you dying?"

Harry frowned. "No."

"Then be quiet!" Snape turned to leave.

"I hurt my arm," Harry lied, determined to make him stay.

Snape paused and turned back to him, his eyes narrowed. "You did, did you?"

"Yes, here." He held up his right arm and pointed to his elbow with his left hand. "While exercising."

Snape's eyebrows drew in towards each other and Harry was sure the wizard knew he was lying. "Take this." Snape reached into his robes and pulled out the normal painkiller, tossing it to Harry.

He uncorked the vial and dropped a drip on his tongue before handing it back to Snape. "Thanks."

"Be more careful," Snape spat. "And put some clothes on." He strode off quickly.

Harry stared after him. Snape had changed completely since yesterday. Yes, he'd been a bastard the day before, but he had also been very careful to make sure Harry wasn't hurt. He puzzled it over in his head while he climbed into bed and relaxed against the sheets. He slowly went over everything that had happened since the previous morning searching for clues.

He got to the part with the three Death Eaters when understanding hit him like a bolt of lightning. Had he been infected? He always assumed you needed to have actual sex in order to get diseases, but when Snape threw Avery off Harry that time, Snape asked him if Avery had put his cock inside of him. Maybe any form of penetration was enough to pass on a disease. If Harry had been infected with a disease, then Snape wouldn't be able to have sex with him anymore which would make Snape very angry. Even if he was getting some from Narcissa, she didn't visit more than once a month at the most. It explained why Snape was irritable, why he was reluctant to touch him, and why he was now insisting that Harry wear clothes. Harry examined his genitals for anything out of the ordinary, but they seemed fine. He didn't really know anything about sexual diseases, so he wasn't even sure exactly what he was supposed to be looking for. He certainly hoped it wasn't anything too horrible.

Ginny! Oh no, what would he do? He couldn't bear the thought of infecting her. What if this disease had no cure and he'd never be able to have sex with her? He felt sick. He climbed off his bed and exercised to try to take his mind off the matter. Snape was amazing with his potions. Maybe he could develop one to treat Harry. Maybe he was working on one right now. Harry hoped so; he couldn't stand the thought that he'd never be able to have straight sex.

When Snape arrived to serve dinner, Harry practically flew to the bars.

"Which one do I have?" he demanded loudly.

"What are you talking about?" Snape asked, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

"Which disease?" Harry persisted anxiously.

Snape stared at him. "You have no diseases as far as I know."

"I wasn't infected last night?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Of course not," Snape moved past him towards the table. He summoned dinner for the young wizard, then turned to leave.

"Then why won't you touch me?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Why would I touch you?" Snape sneered before leaving.

Harry felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. He wasn't infected but Snape no longer wanted anything to do with him? Had Snape lost interest because of what the other Death Eaters did to him? Harry returned to his bed, feeling too sick to eat.

While he would miss sex orgasms, that wasn't what really bothered him. He liked the casual touches he shared with Snape and the almost friendship that had seemed to have grown between them. Even though Snape was a bastard, he could still show a surprising amount of warmth and tenderness. Now that he was no longer interested in Harry sexually, he had no reason to pretend to be nice to Harry other than to convince him to train.

Harry hoped this meant Voldemort would no longer require Snape to sleep with him. But then again, that might be worse. Maybe he'd be given to and raped by random Death Eaters at Voldemort's orders since Snape now refused to do it. His stomach turned at the knowledge of how cruel they would be. Thoughts of what they might do to him ran through his head, and he tried to block them out. He could do this, they couldn't hurt him unless he let them. He wanted Ron. He wanted Hermione. He wanted Ginny. He wanted someone who would be friendly to him because they liked him, not because of something they wanted from him or something he could do. Maybe he should write another letter?

Harry slid off the mattress and pulled out Billy Budd and the myth book. He returned to his bed and cleared a space to work on his letter. He delicately began to remove the letters for 'be careful,' the most important message he wanted to send.

He was gluing on the 'u' when the library door flew open and Snape stormed through. He had obviously masked his footsteps, because Harry didn’t hear him stop across the tiles to the bars. Harry ignored him and focused on his work.

"What are you doing?" Snape's hawk eyes were fixed on the letter.

"I'm writing a note," he answered, knowing Snape knew perfectly well what he was doing.

"And what do you imagine you're going to do with that note?" Snape asked, an eyebrow arching. "If you think I will allow Strix to be near you while you are in possession of it, you are sorely mistaken."

"I'll think of a way to send it later." Harry stuck the 'l' in place.

" _Incendio_!" The remains of _Billy Budd_ and the myth book burst into flames.

"What the hell?" Harry stared at the ash that littered his mattress.

Snape cleaned the ash away with another flick of his wand. "Your lack of intelligence never ceases to amaze me. How can you be broken if you are writing notes?"

"They wouldn't know when I wrote it," Harry shot back. "And they never look under my mattress."

"Just because something hasn't happened yet doesn't mean it won't, you idiot!" yelled Snape. "You presumably have a brain. Use it for once!"

Harry curled his hands into fists. "Why are you here? Get out. I don't want to talk to you."

"Don't you dare tell me what to do!" Snape hissed as he stepped through the bars and marched over to the side of the bed. 

"D'you want to fight me?" Harry asked, raising his fists and rising up on his knees so that he was on level with Snape. "Because I will. Right now, without magic. Let's do it." 

"You are the most undisciplined-"

"And yet look what I've done! I've fooled most of them, haven't I? They think I'm broken! When I'm with you I-"

"Yes, I know," Snape interrupted. "You haven't fooled me and you haven't fooled the Dark Lord yet."

"How do you know? What if he never brings Nagini with him? How will you know?" Harry retorted defiantly.

"I'll know," Snape answered simply. "I will return to brewing now and you will forget this nonsense about sending notes. You need to play your part completely. If you can't do that, I will lock you in the cupboard to prevent you from doing something incredibly stupid which would give both of us away."

Harry crossed his arms. "Just because we aren't going to perform for Voldemort anymore doesn't mean you can treat me like shite."

"What makes you think we aren't going to perform anymore?" Snape asked coldly.

"Oh." Harry frowned in confusion. "I thought you didn't want to."

"Of course I don't want to!" Snape argued with a sneer. "I've never wanted to!"

"You're a liar!" Harry countered, stung by Snape's rejection. 

"You can't tell when I'm pretending, can you?" Snape replied in a smug tone, his dark eyes glittering with self-satisfaction. "You believed that I actually enjoyed... _that_ ," he spat the word as if it were a curse. "Even if I were attracted to males, I would certainly never prefer a runt-"

Infuriated, Harry yelled, "You've never needed help to get hard! You want to fuck me! You enjoy fucking me!"

Snape's face twisted. "You spread your legs like a whore for me last night. You sucked him-"

Harry's anger exploded in a firestorm of rage. "DO YOU THINK I ENJOY BEING RAPED?" he screamed, leaping to his feet. Ablaze with fury, he was shaking so violently he could barely stand. "DO YOU THINK I LIKED IT WHEN YOU FOR-"

"SHUT UP!" Snape yelled as he whipped out his wand.

"Or what?" Harry hissed, his eyes burning. His jaw and fists were clenched so hard they hurt. "What are you going to do to me? Rape me again?"

Snape's twisted features slowly slid back to his normal mask of neutrality and Harry could tell he was desperately struggling to get his emotions under control. "I'll take away your voice until you've calmed down if that is what I must do. You need to eat your dinner. You need to train."

Harry glanced over at the table which had been cleared of dishes. His food must've returned to the kitchen untouched. "I don't feel hungry," he finally managed to say once he calmed himself enough to speak.

"You will, eventually." Snape's face finally returned to its usual indecipherable mask. "Eat your dinner and I will train you afterwards."

"Why are you so concerned about me eating my dinner?" Harry asked suspiciously. "Did you put more sleeping potions in it? I noticed you 'forgot' to mention the painkiller you gave to me last night was laced with them."

"Don't be ridiculous," Snape scoffed. "Why would I put a sedative in your dinner?"

"How should I know?" Harry answered mockingly, crossing his arms again. "Maybe you like to wank while I'm sleeping." Snape could use a wank or sex; he was far too wound up. He certainly wouldn't be getting it from Harry anytime soon.

Snape's face turned an ugly shade of red. He stepped back to the table and slammed his hand down against the surface so hard, Harry jumped from the loud crack. He removed his hand and Harry's dinner reappeared. Snape stomped forward again, his wand out and pointed menacingly at Harry's throat. The young wizard held his ground, glaring at Snape through narrowed eyes, challenging him to just try and use his magic against him.

"You won't be trained any more tonight and if you don't eat this meal, you won't be fed again until morning," Snape hissed, his dark eyes glittering with fury. He turned and marched out of the room, a black hurricane of anger.

Harry slammed his fist into his pillow as hard as he could. As soon as his knuckles sank into the pillow, his emotional control finally broke and Harry poured his rage out into it, imagining it was Snape's head as he pounded his fist into it over and over again. It wasn't enough to quell the anger that he'd been burying inside him and he snatched up the pillow, throwing it at the wall. The soft thud wasn't in the least bit satisfying, so Harry stormed over to the table, snatched up a chair, and threw it at the bars. The loud crack that rang through the room when it connected filled him with joy and he marched to the sink and grabbed up his toothpaste, throwing it at the opposite wall as hard as he could. He grabbed the rest of his toiletries, throwing them at the walls and the floor with all his strength. His mouthwash bottle was last, and when he slammed it into the tiles by his feet, the bottle broke open, spraying his lower limbs with green liquid. The destruction of the bottle was the catharsis he needed and his destructive anger slowly ebbed away, allowing him to regain some control over himself once more.

Feeling calmer, Harry bent down and examined the pieces, ignoring the wetness that now surrounded his feet. The bottle's lid had cracked and fallen off when he threw it, but the bottle itself was still intact. He closed his fingers around a piece of the broken lid and the sharp edge started to bite into his fingertips. He carefully picked up the pieces, flushing them down the toilet while he replaced the bottle on the ledge of the sink. His anger had diminished to the point where he no longer felt out of control, he fetched the flannel and quickly cleaned up the spilled liquid. When he was finished, he gathered up the rest of his toiletries. They were all fine except for the soap, which was broken in half. He returned them to his sink, lining them up again, each neatly placed in order as before. 

His anger now almost completely abated, he retrieved his chair and ate his dinner, forcing down the pork chops. Snape had given him mangoes for dessert. Harry picked them up and examined them closely before eating a tiny bite. He waited until he was sure they weren't tainted with any potions before eating them slowly to savour the taste. If Snape thought he could be a dick and give him gifts to make up for it, he was sorely mistaken. Even head wouldn't make up for how much of a bastard he'd been lately. Okay, maybe head, a lot of head and really, really good head at that. He wouldn't let Snape touch him otherwise, not until he made up for his poor behaviour. 

The thought of Snape being forced to give him head until he forgave Snape gave Harry great pleasure and he finally relaxed. He decided to read after dinner. He examined his books as he lifted up the mattress and thought briefly about attempting to write another letter, but Snape was right. If he'd got caught with the letter, he wouldn’t have had an excuse. It was pure luck his first message hadn’t been intercepted; Snape would've got in serious trouble if the note had been found. Still… he missed his friends so very much… He looked at the picture of Ginny until his heart ached too much for him to think about her any longer. He closed _Cosmos_ and picked up _The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe_. Replacing his mattress, he climbed into bed and settled under the covers to read. Getting lost in a fantasy world would take his mind off his current troubles, at least for a little while.

Harry read until he fell asleep. 

 

_Please review_


	42. Chapter 42

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

Snape woke Harry with spells the next morning. Even though it had been some time since Harry had been attacked while sleeping, he woke as soon as he heard the sharp crackling sound of the first spell. Unfortunately, in his sleepiness, he mixed up left with right and ran smack into the wall.

“Are you hurt?” Snape stepped into the cell and swept over to the bed. 

“Not really, just awake.” Harry rubbed at the spot where his skull had collided with the drywall. 

“Take this, just in case.” Snape held out the normal painkiller. Harry took it and carefully placed one drop on his tongue before pressing it back into Snape’s hand. 

Snape tucked it back into his robes and stepped away from Harry to spell breakfast on the table. He then sat in his chair and drank his tea as Harry climbed into his seat and bit into a sausage. 

“You will have a normal training session today,” Snape said evenly, his voice cooler than normal. “And we should perform this evening. I know you despise it as much as I, but it is simply something you must do.” 

Harry frowned as he drank his orange juice, not sure how to respond to that comment. He didn’t despise the sex and neither did Snape. Harry knew it was possible to have an erection out of fear or anger rather than arousal, but he didn’t think that was the case with Snape. He felt sure Snape wanted him, but something happened two nights ago that now made Snape pretend he didn’t like having sex with him. 

Harry was still puzzling over everything as Snape led him up to the practice room which had been cleared of furniture. As Snape spelled the balls, Harry glanced around the room and had an epiphany. Two nights ago was the first time he remembered seeing Narcissa at a Death Eater gathering, even though Lucius had been to many. The Death Eaters who molested Harry mentioned they thought he was giving Snape head regularly. It was possible Narcissa heard what the Death Eaters said about him and Snape. Harry was pretty sure she hadn’t known about Snape’s sexual involvement with him when she had visited earlier; otherwise, she wouldn't have slept with Snape. Maybe she found out about them last night and that was why she left? 

Or did she leave at all? What if she stayed and saw how Harry acted, thinking Snape wanted to have sex with him? She couldn’t possibly believe his relationship with Snape was nonsexual after watching that display and she would’ve been angry at Snape for not telling her. If she did stay, that probably meant Draco had been there as well, and Harry’s stomach turned at the thought. He could stand many things, but not the thought of Draco watching him on his knees giving head. He quickly pushed that thought right out of his mind. 

Harry thought it served Snape right to be denied straight sex. If he couldn’t get it, then Snape shouldn’t be able to get it either. Now, unless Snape improved his attitude, Harry wasn't going to give him any kind of sex. Harry figured there were two things that could possibly happen if he refused to cooperate with Snape: either Snape would rape him, or he would have to make up some excuse to tell Voldemort and explain why he hadn't performed with Harry. Since Snape insisted he despised rape, Harry expected the second scenario. He'd be able to force Snape to treat him the same as he had before what happened with the Death Eaters. It was quite a satisfactory thought and Harry was so distracted by it he didn’t notice Snape had begun the lesson until three balls bounced off his back. 

“Don't waste my time, Potter. If you don’t wish to train, I have plenty of other activities I would prefer to do,” Snape haughtily informed him. 

Harry quickly jumped to his feet and began to dodge. “I’m ready to train now.” Along with the spelled balls, Snape began to cast magic at him as well. Harry had become so proficient at dodging he could now avoid Snape's spells, although sometimes he needed to run into the balls' path to do it. Snape normally cast rather benign spells at Harry, but today he cast Dark Magic along with the Unforgivables. When an _Avada Kedavra_ narrowly missed him, Harry nearly had a heart attack. When he finally caught his breath, he whirled quickly around to face Snape and fiercely shouted, “Are you trying to kill me?!” 

Snape answered by shooting another _Avada Kedavra_ at Harry’s head. Harry ducked out of the way, but Snape double-cast and the second spell hit Harry’s foot, pinning him to the floor, and he lost his balance. He recovered himself before he smacked onto the floor just in time to narrowly dodge two more _Avada Kedavras_. Snape caught him in the wrist with another pinning spell and he was stuck, unable to move more than a few inches either way. 

Snape strode over and stood before Harry, his face an unreadable mask. He pointed his wand straight at Harry’s chest. “ _Avada Kedavra_.” 

Harry couldn’t dodge the curse at such close range and he was helpless to do anything as the green light hit him square in the chest. His heart jumped as a cool tingling sensation passed throughout his body.

“What the hell did you do?!” he gasped when he realised he was still alive. 

“I was simply casting one spell whilst announcing another. It’s a well-known trick which has been used by Death Eaters in the past,” Snape lectured, an odd smile on his face. "Are you so stupid as to believe an _Avada Kedavra_ can be double-cast?" He released Harry from his bonds. 

“You…you…” Harry panted, feeling the rush of emotions he'd been too stunned to feel when he was evading the spells. Fear raged through him like a wildfire and he struggled for air, his body shaking violently. 

“You actually thought I was going to kill you,” Snape stated, sounding amused. 

“Of course I did!” Harry’s anger boiled over, quickly smothering his fear. He leapt to his feet and walked backwards towards the other side of the room, well away from Snape. He didn’t dare take his eyes off the sick bastard. 

“Finally, your intelligence and paranoia have improved to the point where they are almost at normal level. I should give you a reward.” Snape mused while tucking his wand away. 

“Don’t talk to me like that, you bastard!” Harry hissed. He'd had enough. He refused to put up with Snape's cruelty and insults any longer. There was no way he would train if Snape was going to continue to bully him like this.

Snape arched an eyebrow at him. “Potter-” 

“And don’t tell me I need to be calm!” Harry forcefully interrupted. “No one in their right mind would be calm after being tied down and shot with an _Avada Kedavra_! What the fucking hell is wrong with you?!” 

“Potter, I did not-” 

“You wanted me to think you had!” He bumped into the wall and realised he was by the door leading to the carpeted hallway down to the cellar stairs. He acted as soon as he saw it, yanking it open and darting through the doorway before Snape’s spells reached the door.

“POTTER!” Snape bellowed. “GET BACK HERE!” 

Harry flew down the stairs and darted through the library door, barely remembering to shut it behind him. He tore down the hallway and into the bathroom, slamming the door shut and positioning Snape’s heavy chair under the door knob. He tried to get into the potions cabinet again and when he couldn’t get it open, he tried to move it, but it was far too heavy for him to budge. He sat on top of the thick bathmat to help hold the chair in place and waited for Snape with crossed arms and fury raging savagely in his heart. 

He wasn't there for long before Snape spoke from the other side of the door. “If you think this behaviour will increase my faith in your self-control and dedication, you are sorely mistaken. You must know by now you are not allowed to be out of your cage and out of my sight while unrestrained. If you don’t open this door right now, I will remove it with magic.” 

The unspoken threat of what might happen to Harry should Snape be forced to open the door with magic hung in the air between them. Harry thought about making Snape use magic just to see in what way Snape would retaliate, but Harry also wanted to stand up to him as long as possible. Unfortunately he knew as soon as Snape started casting spells, there'd be no chance of a fair fight. Harry climbed to his feet and removed the chair from beneath the door knob. He opened the door and met Snape’s gaze with a calmness he didn't feel. Snape was standing with his wand out, his face a neutral mask upon seeing Harry. 

“I’m going to take a shower and then I’m going to wank,” Harry coldly informed Snape in a matter of fact tone. “Either you can come watch me like a dirty pervert or you can go read or think of ways to torture people or do whatever you do when you aren’t casting Unforgivables at me.” 

“Potter, I don’t want-” Snape began, but Harry interrupted him. 

“That’s what you say, but you’re a fucking liar. So I’ll make it simple for you. You aren’t touching me until you stop being such a bastard,” he declared, glaring at Snape. 

Snape's eyebrows drew together in anger. “And the Dark Lord will-” 

“Fuck Voldemort!" yelled Harry. "I’m not letting you-” 

“You are an insufferable child,” Snape spat. “Always-” 

“If I'm a child, what does that make you?” Harry retorted.

Snape's face twisted in fury and he levelled his wand at Harry’s chest. “You will do as I say or I’ll-” 

“Or what? You'll force me?” sneered Harry. “Use magic to make me? Drug me and do it when I can no longer stop you? You're the same as them; nothing more than a murdering rapist. I hope you weren’t planning on having children, because I’ll-” 

“You insolent brat!” Snape hissed. “Do you want to be punished by the Dark Lord? Do you want me to stop training you and return to Hogwarts? Because I will, unless you stop this madness!” 

"Go ahead!” Harry shouted defiantly. “Go ahead, and I’ll tell him you were training me to beat him!” 

“Then you will kill us both, you idiot! All because you are too ignorant to realise when you should shut up and do as you’re told! You will obey me or I will force you to obey me!” Snape threatened as he aimed his wand at Harry's throat. 

Harry bravely stood his ground, refusing to back down. “You can’t do anything without me!” Harry reminded him. “You need me to kill Voldemort!” 

“You’re so pathetic I doubt you’ll even be able to do that,” sneered Snape, looming over Harry like a big, black vulture. His black eyes glittered dangerously and his lips twisted into a terrible parody of a smile. “Hopefully you will be more successful at saving the wizarding world than you were at saving your poor, dear Godfather, but I doubt that.” 

Harry inhaled sharply as his stomach dropped to the floor. “SHUT UP!” 

Snape ignored him, the same horrible smile stretching his thin lips thinner. “I should turn you into a mindless puppet. There wouldn’t be much difference in intelligence and then you might actually be of value to me. Your only use is as a pawn and even there you’re lacking. You aren’t even good for-” 

“FUCK YOU!!” screamed Harry. He lunged forward and quickly snatched Snape’s wand from his hand, then slammed the door in Snape's face as hard as he could. Snape tried to push the door open, but Harry pressed up hard against it, not letting it open even a crack. 

“ _Incendio_!” Snape yelled and Harry barely had enough time to scramble to the other end of the bathroom as the door burst into flames. The remains of the door blasted apart and Snape stepped through wearing the same inhuman expression he had worn when he tried to strangle Harry. 

Harry pointed Snape’s wand at him. “Don’t you fucking touch me!” 

“Immobulus!” Snape's right arm flew forward as if his hand were a wand.

Harry tried to dodge, but the room was far too small to properly evade and he was helpless to stop the spell from hitting him. Harry’s body went limp and he dropped the wand, falling backwards onto the thick rug. He stared up at the ceiling, unable to move despite how hard he tried. He’d get Snape back for this. He’d beat him to a pulp. He’d tear him into little pieces. He’d blow him apart with the most explosive spell he could find. 

He heard Snape’s harsh breathing as he felt his body being lifted by the invisible tendrils of _Mobilicorpus_. His head flopped back and he watched the walls as he was floated back to his cell, Snape following at his feet. Snape manoeuvred him onto the bed and laid him flat on his back. He leaned over and took hold of Harry's hands, pulling them up over his head towards the bars. Harry glared up hotly at him, but Snape did not meet his gaze as he cast chaining spells, connecting Harry’s cuffs to the bedposts, then finally stepping away. 

“ _Finite Incantatem_ ,” he finally muttered, freeing Harry from _Immobulus_. 

Harry twisted to glare daggers at him. “YOU BASTARD! I’M-” 

“ _Silencio_!” Snape clutched his wand so tightly his knuckles were white. Harry hoped that he had scared the arsehole. “Now,” Snape bit out his words as if they were large and unwieldy. “I will leave you there until lunch time. If you have not calmed by then, I will not release you. If you have grown more belligerent, I will lock you in the cupboard until you have calmed down. I do not care if I have to leave you there for days. Is that understood?” 

Harry mouthed ‘fuck you’ at him as he flipped up his middle finger on the hand closest to Snape. 

Snape marched over and Harry kicked at him. Snape cast _Immobulus_ and grabbed the hair on top of Harry’s head. His fingers yanked roughly on Harry's hair and he pressed his wand against Harry’s neck, digging the tip into his skin. He bent his head down, his face closer than Harry had ever seen it while sober. His thin lips were pulled back, baring his crooked, yellow teeth and his black eyes glittered with contempt and malice, their darkness only amplified by the sallowness of his skin. “Do. Not. Test. Me. What has happened to you so far will seem like Paradise compared to what I will do to you if you continue to contest my authority. I know of a myriad of ways to torture you without alerting the Dark Lord to your pain. You will beg for forgiveness well before I have finished with you. Believe me Potter, when I do torture you, I will enjoy it more than you will ever know.”

For one terrifying moment, Harry completely froze, staring up at Snape with wide eyes. The feral glint he saw in Snape's eyes unnerved him and when Snape shifted slightly as if to climb onto the bed, Harry's heart seemed to leap out of his chest. However, Snape merely released Harry's hair and stormed off, slamming the library door behind him. 

Left under _Immobulus_ , Harry could do nothing but stare at the ceiling, imagining all the ways in which he would kill Snape. When the spell finally wore off, he rearranged himself as best he could, annoyed at the chains that bound him to the bed. How had things gone from bad to worse in just a few short days? Did Snape really mean to carry out his threat? Harry was tempted to continue and push Snape just to see how far he could go before he was punished, but he needed to train and he couldn't very well do that if he was locked in the cupboard for days. 

Harry was still seething when Snape returned a few hours later, but he wiped all trace of emotion from his face as best he could and met Snape’s gaze with cool indifference. Snape apparently believed that Harry's demeanour reflected his inner emotions, because he removed the chains as he stepped in through the bars. Harry remained curled up in the corner of his bed. Snape procured lunch and then tucked his wand away. He regarded Harry silently while Harry watched him back. 

“After you have eaten your lunch, I will train you again,” Snape informed him evenly. 

Even though Harry wanted to train, his rage spiked at those words. Did Snape seriously think he could order Harry around after that little speech he gave? He narrowed his eyes at Snape and suspiciously stated, “I’m not eating or drinking anything until you swear to me you haven’t put potions in any of it.” 

His eyes locked on Harry's, Snape picked up the cup and took a sip. He then stepped close to the bed and offered it. “There are no potions in your food; I have no reason to drug you.” 

“Of course you do,” Harry testily replied. “You’ll put potions in my food and then rape me again.” 

Snape’s face contorted into an expression of extreme rage and he threw the cup of pumpkin juice at Harry. The cup bounced harmlessly off Harry’s shoulder, the juice splashing all over his face, down his chest, and spattering the sheets. Harry was too shocked to do anything but sputter for a moment before he recovered and launched himself at Snape. 

“ _Immobulus_!” Snape cast and Harry landed flat on the bed. 

Snape stomped out, releasing Harry from Immobulus as he passed through the library door. 

“COWARD!” Harry flew to the bars. “FIGHT ME LIKE A MAN!” 

Harry nearly slammed his fist against the bars in rage but restrained himself. Angrily striding over to the bed, he stripped the mattress, threw the wet sheets outside his cell into the hallway, and then stepped over to the sink and bathed, removing all trace of pumpkin juice. When Harry finished, he sat down to eat his lunch. If Snape had tainted it, he'd rip off the bastard’s balls. 

Snape had made him the delicious chicken stew he preferred, along with apple crumble and ice cream for dessert. Harry ate slowly, savouring the tastes and textures of each dish. Eating calmed him and by the time he finished his meal, he was no longer as agitated as he had been before. 

Harry knew he'd acted childishly in threatening to go to Voldemort. It was only something he said, because he was extremely angry at the time. He also knew he needed to perform if he wanted to maintain the charade; there was no way around it. While he despised the way Snape was treating him, being immature wouldn't help either of them. Even if Snape was acting like a complete dick, it didn't mean Harry should stoop to Snape's level. He’d deal with the bastard in the same way he dealt with the Death Eaters. He’d push down his revulsion and disgust and allow Snape to do whatever was necessary. Snape had never been cruel during sex, so it shouldn’t be too difficult. After he was free he'd pay Snape back tenfold, but for now, he'd be mature and do whatever was required of him to defeat Voldemort.

Harry finished his meal and then read until Snape arrived many hours later. 

Snape wordlessly picked up the laundry and sent it down the hall. He opened the bars for Harry. “You probably want a bath.” 

Harry put the book away and got to his feet. “Yeah, I do.” He slipped out of the cell, avoiding Snape as he made his way down to the bathroom, which was still missing a door. As Harry was taking his shower, he noticed that Snape remained outside the bathroom. Harry leisurely finished showering, dried himself off and stepped out into the hallway, wrapping the towel around his waist. 

Snape was in his cell, replacing the bed sheets. Harry stepped through the bars, again staying well away from the git as he slowly walked over towards his chair. When Harry was finally seated, Snape spelled dinner on the table for him. 

Harry sat down and bit into his roast. He focused on his meal rather than on Snape who checked Harry’s toiletries and, after seeing that everything was in order, took his own chair. 

“Have you finished The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe yet?” Snape asked casually. 

Harry blinked. Of all the things he expected Snape to say, that had to be the last. “No, but I’ll be finished with it soon.” 

“What do you think of it?” Snape continued as if they hadn’t spent all day shouting at each other. Harry wished he had his glasses so he could see Snape’s face clearly, but he assumed the greasy git had finally decided to treat him decently again.

“Aslan just returned to life which I thought was kind of dumb,” Harry answered in an equally even tone. 

“Why?” Snape summoned tea for himself. 

“Well, they make a big deal out of the fact that he's sacrificing himself to save Edmund’s life, but he doesn’t actually die for Edmund. If Aslan knew he was going to come back to life, then he didn’t really sacrifice himself,” Harry pointed out. “I hate it when people die and then come back to life in books. It doesn’t work that way in real life. Even in the wizarding world, when people die they stay dead.” 

Snape regarded him evenly. “The story was written as an allegory with Aslan representing Christ. It is yet another example of the ultimate heroic ideal – the sacrificial hero.” 

“You don’t think much of heroism, do you?” Harry asked. 

“A lot of what you would deem heroism or bravery I consider stupidity,” Snape explained. “Think about your own situation. I am sure there are some who expect you to challenge the Dark Lord at the first opportunity available to you. You did so, initially, and received nothing for it but torture that nearly drove you out of your mind. Your current strategy is to bide your time and rely on manipulation and deceit until the perfect opportunity presents itself. This plan may be less desirable to you based on the ridiculous notions of fairness and courage to which you Gryffindors seem to cling; however, it has kept you alive and relatively free of harm.” 

“Free of harm?” Harry asked incredulously, nearly choking on his pumpkin juice. “I’d hate to see what you think would be harmful if you think I’m free of it.” 

“Relatively,” stressed Snape. “You’ve been held prisoner for several months. You could have been broken. You could have been locked in the cupboard continuously and only allowed out for necessities. You could have been drugged until you-” 

“Okay, okay, I get the point.” Harry stabbed at the roast with his spoon harder than he intended and a piece of it went flying off his plate, landing on the floor. Snape sent it away with a flick of his wand. 

“I know you plan to go before the Dark Lord and give your life for the wizarding world if necessary, but you must consider-” 

“I’m going to defeat him and that’s final,” Harry interrupted firmly. 

“I wasn’t suggesting that you wouldn’t go before him,” Snape assured him smoothly. “If the Dark Lord had not targeted you, you would still do everything in your power to fight him, would you not?” 

“Of course.”

“I simply wonder what it is about the wizarding world that compels you to give your life for it if it should be required.” 

Snape had to be playing dumb. There was no way he hadn’t figured this out already. “For my friends,” Harry answered easily. “If he isn’t destroyed he's going to kill more people like my mum and dad.” 

“And if he promised not to harm your friends or family anymore?” Snape persisted. 

Harry frowned at him. He couldn’t understand what Snape was driving at with his comments. “He’s a liar. He’d kill them as soon as they stepped out of hiding. Why are you even asking? If you are trying to convince me to join Voldemort it isn’t going to work.” 

“Of course not.” Snape sent away his tea. “I merely want you to think about your actions and what they will entail for you since you seem insistent on following your heart rather than your head.” 

“If I didn’t listen to my heart, I’d turn into him.” Harry finished his roast and started on his crème brûlée. 

"To try for a little more consideration in every action you take, does not mean ignoring your heart." Snape said as he watched Harry eat. "It won't hurt you to think before you act." 

“I do think,” Harry insisted. “Just because I don’t reach the same conclusions as you, doesn’t mean I don’t.” 

“You thought before you grabbed my wand and locked yourself in the bathroom?” Snape’s eyebrow shot up near his hairline. 

Harry gripped the bowl so tightly it began to crumble. “If Voldemort shoots _Avada Kedavras_ at me, then I am going to get angry. If you think that means I'm reckless, then I guess I always will be.” 

“It wasn’t the first time I have cast Dark Magic in your presence.” Snape pointed out. 

“No, but you weren't acting like a complete arsehole then either.” Harry finished his crème brûlée and set the empty dish aside with the others. 

His face a mask, Snape cleared all of the dishes away with a flick of his wand and folded his hands on the table. “We must perform tonight. The Dark Lord will expect it and I’ve worked too long on this plan to allow you to destroy it. Either you will perform as expected or I will give you the drug and take you after your resistance has faded.” He reached into his robes and removed the vial that contained the sex potion, placing it on the table in front of him. 

Harry stared at the potion, completely mesmerised. He'd forgotten about the potion, but memories of how happy and wonderful he felt when he took it quickly resurfaced. He desperately wanted to feel once again the euphoria the drug gave him, even though logically he knew he shouldn't. His strong desire for the potion was dangerous, but right now he wanted it more than anything. He knew he should simply submit to the greater forces in his life and let Snape do whatever he had to do, because it was necessary, but... he could also enjoy what was about to happen. He could lose himself in ecstasy and forget the horror his life had become. He deserved some happiness in the midst of this Hell. Just to taste it one more time wouldn't hurt him. Just this once. As if by their own free will, his fingers slid across the table towards the bottle. 

Snape quickly snatched the potion away. “There are rules you must agree to before I will let you take it,” Snape said firmly. “This will be the last time I offer you this potion. Any more ill behaviour on your part will result in me tying you up and using force on future. I don’t wish to do it, but I will if it is required. If you want this potion, then you must promise to never threaten to refuse to perform ever again.” 

“I promise,” Harry answered quickly, his eyes fixed on the small, blood red bottle. He wanted it badly now. He needed it. 

“The second rule,” Snape continued, “is that you must play your part perfectly. I will give you a very small dosage to prevent you from losing complete control over your words. You claim to be able to perform perfectly before the Dark Lord. Imagine he is observing us if you must, but do not mess this up.” 

Harry shuddered; the last thing he wanted to think about right now was that scaly old pervert. “I’ll take the potion and you won’t have to worry about a thing,” he agreed. “But you have to get undressed; it's strange you want to wear clothes during sex.” If he had to perform tonight, he wasn't going to let Snape have the final word in everything that was going to happen between them. 

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Snape stood up and approached Harry. 

“Wait.” Harry pushed back his chair. “Give it to me right before we begin, I don’t want it to wear off in the middle.” 

Snape nodded and placed the potion down on the table. He began to undo his outer robe and Harry slid onto his bed, facing the wall while he waited for Snape to finish undressing. After several minutes, he heard the chair moving and turned to see Snape pulling the chair over to the side of the bed. Snape was completely naked, his clothes folded and draped neatly over the chair. The potion and the lube rested on the part of the seat closest to the bed. When Snape climbed onto the bed, Harry noticed he was flaccid. He'd never seen Snape completely flaccid before and it was an odd sight, so he focused on Snape’s face instead. Snape wore his neutral expression as he picked up the bottle and opened it for Harry. 

“Open your mouth.” 

Harry leaned forward, opening his mouth and Snape carefully poured some of the potion inside. He then stoppered the bottle and turned away to set the potion back down on the chair. Harry swallowed most of what he'd been given but left a small amount at the tip of his tongue. He rolled over onto his stomach, propping his upper body up on his elbows. 

Snape shifted on the bed behind him and placed his cold hands on Harry’s upper back. He slowly slid them around Harry’s torso until he captured Harry’s nipples in his fingers. They hardened at his touch and he followed the motions Harry knew so well, but his movements were stiff and robotic. Harry hated it. He pulled away from Snape's touch and sat up, turning around to face him. 

Snape appeared surprised to find Harry suddenly looking at him. His eyebrows drew in towards each other and he opened his mouth to speak. “If-” 

Harry launched himself at Snape and grabbed hold of the other wizard's shoulders. He pressed his mouth against Snape's lips, thrusting his tongue inside and pushing what liquid remained in his mouth with it. Harry pretended he simply wanted to kiss Snape and closed his eyes as he explored Snape’s mouth with his tongue. Snape tasted like his tea and potions lab, a slightly bitter mix of earth and herbs and something else Harry couldn’t quite identify. Snape was as stiff as a statue when Harry first began to kiss him, but he soon unfroze and started to kiss back, his tongue demanding entrance into Harry’s mouth. Snape's kisses were terribly awkward and nothing like the sweet, soft kisses Harry had shared with Ginny. Snape's mouth was far too wet and his huge nose kept getting in the way. 

Snape slowly slid his hand up Harry’s back, letting it come to rest between Harry's shoulder blades, and gently pulled him down on the bed. Harry relaxed his body and let himself be manoeuvred to lie flat on his back. He released Snape’s shoulders and lay against the sheets, hoping the potion would soon take effect on both of them. Snape kissed Harry's neck, and then began mouthing and licking his way downward, his hair lightly brushing over Harry's collarbone. Harry waited impatiently for him to move on, but when Snape still hadn't progressed any further, Harry opened his eyes and raised his head to see why it was taking so long. When he did, he was caught by surprise. He saw Snape’s left arm working rhythmically, his hand hidden from view. 

He'd never seen Snape wank before; he never needed to in Harry’s presence. Snape really didn’t want to have sex with him; he hadn’t been lying when he said he didn’t want to touch him. The knowledge that he wasn’t wanted anymore made Harry feel hollow and empty inside. He waited for the potion to take effect, to fill him with happiness and euphoria, to take away his loneliness. Finally, warmth spread throughout his body and he relaxed against the sheets. Snape’s kisses no longer annoyed him and he arched up towards Snape's teasing lips and tongue. Wanting to be touched and caressed more, Harry shifted his chest to get Snape to mouth his nipples. Snape figured out what he wanted and moved his head over to one of Harry's eager nubs, flickering his tongue over one pink peak before he closed his lips around it and sucked. Harry cried out in pleasure and nearly arched off the bed as the potion fully kicked in. It felt so fucking good. Snape used both his hands to hold Harry down as he began to intensely tease the sensitive nub. 

“Oh god.” Harry's penis quickly filled and he stroked his hands over every part of Snape that he could reach. He marvelled at the silky sensation of Snape’s hair sliding through his fingers and would’ve played with it for hours if Snape hadn’t sat up. He captured Harry’s cuffs and pressed his hands together, securely wrapping his hand around Harry’s fingers, capturing two from each hand in his own. He pushed Harry’s hands above his head and against the bed.

“Don’t make me tie you up,” Snape growled as he returned his mouth to Harry’s chest to lightly bite Harry’s nipple. Harry shivered at the intensity of his voice. Snape’s mouth was working magic on his nipple, but he really wanted Snape to take his cock in his mouth instead. His erection was so thick and heavy, it desperately needed to be sucked and pulled into Snape's hot, wet mouth. Harry spread his legs wide, trying to get Snape to move his mouth down his body. 

“Down, down.” He urged, trying to pull his trapped hands out of Snape’s tight hold. Snape slid his free hand down Harry’s chest and stomach but lifted it before he touched his swollen and red organ. Harry sucked in his breath, trying to raise his hips to rub his cock against Snape. Snape returned his hand to Harry’s right inner thigh and slid his way down until he touched Harry’s entrance. Harry felt the cleaning spell ripple through him. “No, no.” He shook his head. “Not until you’re nice to me.” 

“I am being nice,” Snape whispered, sending delicious shivers racing over Harry's skin. Snape then slowly slid his hand up and softly stroked Harry’s dick twice. 

Harry cried out with longing, his whole body shaking from the promise of what was to come. “That’s nice,” he gasped. 

Snape released him and retrieved the lube from the chair. Harry saw the sex potion perched on the edge of the chair and wanted more. The small amount he'd been given wasn’t nearly enough. He enjoyed being touched, but his thoughts weren’t running away from him like they normally did when he took the potion. He wanted to lose himself completely, to be mindless with ecstasy. He scrambled to the edge of the bed and reached out to grab it, but Snape quickly snatched it up.

“I want more! Give me more!” pleaded Harry, throwing himself in Snape's lap and trying to crawl up him to grab the potion as if he were a tree. 

“No,” answered Snape firmly as the bottle vanished from his hand. He grabbed Harry’s cuffs and shoved him backwards onto the mattress, pinning him down against the sheets. He once again pushed Harry's hands above his head against the bed. “You’ve had more than enough,” Snape declared before releasing Harry’s hands and shifting to the side. Harry tried to touch him, but his hands couldn't move very far and he twisted his head back to discover he'd been chained to the bed posts. 

“No … don’t tie me.” He tugged on the chains, trying to escape. Snape said he would tie him down and force him if he didn't play his part. He didn’t want to be raped! He arched his back and tried to pull away, panic growing. “I hate it! Don’t tie me!” 

“Shut up or I’ll gag you,” Snape hissed. He placed his hand on Harry’s right leg above the knee and began to slide it up. 

“Nooooo!” Harry kneed Snape with his left leg and tried to twist away from Snape’s grasp. Not rape. Not rape. Anything but that. “Untie me!” 

Snape climbed on top of him, pinning Harry's legs down with the weight of his body. " _Langlock_." 

Harry squeezed his eyes tightly shut and tried to scream, but his trapped tongue turned the scream into a wail.

Snape grabbed Harry's chin and admonished him, “You said you would behave. If you can’t do this, I will stop now and begin again after you have calmed. Will you behave?” He released Harry's tongue. 

“I’ll do it. I’ll do it,” Harry insisted, gulping for air. “Don’t tie me. Please. I’ll do it.”

He was released from his bonds and he reached for Snape as the other wizard moved off him to sit by his side. Snape caught his hands and pressed them together closing his left hand around Harry’s fingers, trapping them again in front of Harry's chest. Harry wanted to touch Snape, but it was better than being tied, it was almost like holding hands. He stroked Snape’s hand with his free fingers as Snape curled his other hand around Harry’s right leg and pulled him closer. Snape opened the lube with a spell and ran his hand soothingly over Harry's inner thighs. Harry relaxed against the bed and willingly spread open his legs. Snape had his feet on the bed near Harry’s head and Harry stared at them in fascination. He'd never seen Snape’s feet up so close before. They were lightly haired with unusually long toes topped with yellowed toenails. 

Snape pushed a finger inside of him and he threw back his head, moaning with pleasure. Snape wouldn’t hurt him now. A second finger joined the first and they both began to plunge in and out vigorously, rubbing over that special spot deep inside. Harry cried out and thrust his arse hungrily towards those invading fingers, wanting more. 

“Fuck me,” he begged; desperate for orgasm. He wanted to lose himself in ecstasy. “Fuck me!” 

Snape released his hands and positioned Harry on his hands and knees. Harry spread his legs and clenched the sheets tightly in his fists. Snape grabbed his hip and slowly pressed himself inside, his thick heat spreading Harry open bit by bit. Harry was impatient to orgasm and thrust back against him, impaling himself in one hard stroke. Snape curled his fingers tightly around Harry’s hips and began to forcefully pound into him. 

“FUCK!” Harry could do nothing but grab the sheets and scream with pleasure as Snape made him forget everything but how fucking amazing it was to be fucked like that. He couldn’t think of anything but how close he was and how desperately he wanted release; all the tension in his body flowing straight to his abdomen. 

The potion made him weak and he had trouble keeping himself upright. Snape pressed a splayed hand against his chest, holding him up as he continued to plunge deeply into Harry's arse. Harry pressed his own hand over Snape’s fingers, comforted by the closeness that such a small gesture gave him. 

“Touch yourself.” The thunder rolled over him and he almost lost it then. “Bring yourself to orgasm.” 

Harry immediately shot his hand down and wrapped his fingers around his heavy dick. He stroked himself strongly in time to Snape’s thrusts, his balls tight against his groin as he pulled his foreskin up over his swollen head once, twice, three times, and then the dam inside him shattered. Euphoria filled him and all his tension, hate, and fear flowed away as his spunk shot out his dick. He gasped, his breath caught in his throat, as he came and came and it seemed as though every fluid inside him was emptying out onto the sheets. His body went limp from his intense release and he could do nothing but shiver with the aftershocks as Snape held him in place. Snape continued thrusting into him a short while longer before he too came, a soft noise escaping his throat, his hand still pressing Harry tightly against his chest. After Snape’s hips finished jerking, he gently laid Harry down on the sheets and carefully removed himself. 

“ _Accio wand_ ,” he gasped, his breath still quick. Harry felt the cleaning spells pulse through and across him. Snape set the wand back down on the chair and picked up his y-fronts. 

“No, stay with me,” Harry sat up and grabbed his arm, trying to pull Snape back down on the bed with him. He couldn't bear the thought of watching Snape leave knowing there would be more days of arguing and threats. He needed to fix things somehow. He needed to bring back the Snape who read him poetry and held him tenderly -- not this cruel impostor who seemed determined to tear Harry to shreds. 

“You are still under the effect of the potion,” Snape pried off his hands. “You will hate me once you return to your normal self.” 

“I don’t hate you now,” Harry assured him. "Even though you are being an utter bastard."

Snape turned from him and stepped away from the bed.

Harry’s chest hurt at Snape's rejection. He crossed his arms over his torso, trying to hold in his pain. “Why do you hate me now?”

“Hate you now?” Snape asked, his back to Harry as he stepped into his trousers. 

“You wanted to rape me instead of being nice to me,” Harry miserably reminded him. 

“I didn’t want to rape you,” Snape said tersely, his back tense. “I never have.” 

“Then why couldn’t you just have sex with me?” 

“What are you talking about?” Snape turned around and frowned at him. 

“You were going to tie me down and rape me. You almost did. You could’ve been nice and then I would’ve had sex with you, but instead you said if I didn’t do exactly what you wanted you’d rape me. Why did you want rape over sex?” 

“Lack of overt force does not create consent,” Snape responded, the line between his eyebrows dark. “Every time that I’ve … had intercourse with you has been rape. The potion-” 

“No, it hasn’t.” Harry shook his head. “I mean, you’re not the sort of person I’d want to have sex with. Your nose is too big, your teeth are yellow and crooked, and your toes are way too long.” Snape looked at his feet. “And lately you've been a complete arsehole. I also know you wouldn’t choose to have sex with me if you could. Maybe you think I’m repulsive in addition to not liking blokes either. But … you liked it. I liked it. All you had to do was treat me with respect and I would’ve had sex with you and we could've both enjoyed it, but you refused and you said you’d rape me instead. Even now you still won’t touch me like you used to touch me before. You said you'd enjoy torturing me! Why do you hate me so much now?” 

Snape did not answer for a while and Harry wondered if he'd even been paying attention. Finally, Snape spoke while still looking at his feet, his hair covering his face. “I don’t think you are repulsive.” 

“Huh?” Harry stared at him. 

Snape tilted his head to gaze at him. “To quote Billy Budd, you are a ‘fine specimen of the genus _Homo_.’” 

“Are you calling me gay?” Harry frowned at him. 

Snape stared at him for a moment. Finally, the corner of his mouth twitched up in a smile. “You really are stupid,” he said with far more amusement than malice. 

“Don’t call me stupid,” Harry protested, confused by Snape’s sudden transformation from coldness to warmth. 

Snape stepped over to the bed. “Come here.” He motioned with his hand, his voice warmer than it had been for some time. 

Even though he didn't understand the reasons for it, Harry was delighted to crack the cold exterior and reach the Snape who had been hidden for too long. That was enough for Harry, for now. He crawled over to the edge of the bed, gazing up at Snape expectantly. Snape placed his hands on the back of Harry’s head and pulled him up to a kneeling position. For a moment, Harry thought Snape meant to kiss him, but he did not bend down his head. He stared into Harry’s eyes and Harry drowned in his, losing himself in those black, black pools; now warm instead of frozen. 

“You are still under the effects of the drug," Snape observed, his fingers stroking through Harry's hair. "Either my new recipe makes it more effective than I anticipated or you lost your high tolerance.” 

Harry wrapped his hands around Snape’s forearms and pulled his head back, tugging Snape onto the bed with him. Snape finally relented and climbed onto the bed, lying down beside Harry, his fingers lightly stroking Harry's left arm. “I suppose I should stay here and wait until the drug has worn off in case you do something incredibly stupid as is your natural inclination.” 

Snape's tone was light despite his words and Harry snuggled against him, pressing his head against Snape’s chest and entwining his legs with Snape’s. “You should sleep with me,” he murmured, enjoying the warmth of Snape’s body which soaked into his own. He stroked Snape’s chest lightly, delighting in the feel of skin surrounding him. 

“This bed is far too small for that,” Snape complained grumpily. 

“Then let’s do it in your bed next time,” Harry suggested with a yawn. All the anger and hate that had been burning inside him seemed so very far away now, as if it belonged to someone else. He listened to Snape’s heart beating hard against his chest and the sound was relaxing and calming. He realised then that he missed this closeness more than the orgasms, more even than the potion. This was what he really wanted right now -- what he desperately needed. The recognition of that surprised him, but he knew in his heart it was true and there was no sense trying to fight it. 

A very distant part of his brain said, ‘He doesn’t love you. He's a heartless bastard who will destroy you.’ Harry acknowledged the thought, and then chose to ignore it. Forgiveness would have to come later, if Snape deserved it. For now, there was nothing wrong with pretending Snape cared for him, right? Just for the night. In the morning, they would go back to hating each other and fighting, Snape being his usual cruel self and Harry battling for respect, but for now he’d have what he wanted more than anything else in the world. Tonight he wouldn't be lonely anymore. Tonight he'd let himself feel protected and safe; and yes, even loved. 

Harry drifted peacefully off to sleep; lulled by the calming sound of Snape’s heart beat. [[I wrote this chapter while listening to Patty Griffin's _Rain_ which I think really sums up where Harry is at the end of this chapter. It's a beautiful song and you can find it on youtube. Please review!]] 


	43. Chapter 43

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

[[ _This was one chapter that I had to break up into two because it is too long_ ]]

Harry woke alone in his bed. He sleepily pushed back the sheets and stumbled over to the toilet to relieve himself. His morning wood made it difficult to pee, so he had a quick, furtive wank, focusing his mind on Ginny as he finished himself off. As he washed his hands, memories of the previous evening leaked back into his consciousness and his face burned as he remembered what had happened. He'd forgot how the potion affected him, how it made him say and do things he wouldn't ordinarily do. He definitely planned to stay as far away as possible from it now, even if he'd never experience that euphoria again. 

Snape better not try to give him shit over it or try to force him to take the potion again. He hadn't forgiven Snape and if the bastard thought he could treat him like rubbish and then give him that bloody potion and cuddle afterwards to make up for it, Snape was sorely mistaken. It would take a lot more than hugs, especially drug-induced ones, to set things right between them again. Did the small bit of potion he fed Snape have any effect on the Potions Master? Snape had called him a 'nice specimen,' whatever the hell that meant. Harry supposed it was the greasy git's way of saying he found Harry attractive. It pleased him, to know Snape found him fuckable. But Harry still didn't understand why Snape had acted like a git and pretended he hated having sex with him. 

His morning routine finished, Harry picked up his book and read the next chapter to try to keep his mind off his embarrassing behaviour. He was nearly finished when he heard Snape’s footsteps in the library. Harry tucked the book under his mattress and sat back on his bed just as Snape appeared in the doorway. 

“I have arranged for Draco to arrive this Saturday for training,” Snape informed him matter-of-factly. He stepped through the bars and spelled breakfast on the table.

“When’s that?” Harry asked, relieved that Snape had decided to pretend the previous night had never happened.

Snape took his chair and spelled tea for himself. "In four days."

“We must not be far from Hogwarts if Draco can pop by for a visit,” Harry mused as he started on his kippers.

Snape stared at him with a face full of contempt. “Have you not heard of Floos?” 

“You said this house wasn’t connected to a Floo network,” Harry reminded him.

“ _This_ house isn’t."

“Which means it is within Apparition distance of a house that is,” Harry pointed out. Why did Snape have to turn everything into a fight? 

Snape's eyebrows drew in together suspiciously. “Do you even know what the range of Apparition is?”

“No."

“I thought not,” said Snape smugly, sipping from his mug.

Harry waited for Snape to give him a lecture on Apparition and its limitations, and when Snape didn't, he prompted, “So what is it?”

“I don’t want to give you ideas.”

Anger stirred up in Harry at Snape’s refusal to share information with him. “How can I Apparate with these?” He lifted up his cuffs. “Besides, you said the problem with Hogwarts was the lack of scientific curiosity. I’m curious and I want to know how Apparition works.”

Snape gazed at him silently for a moment before he placed his mug back on the table. “As with many aspects of magic, no one knows exactly how Apparition works. The most promising hypothesis that I’ve heard suggests that in Apparating, we pass through wormholes, which-”

“Wormholes?”

Snape nodded. “Topological features of space-time. In theory-”

“Space-time? What does that even mean?”

“It is rather difficult to explain space-time to an individual who has never studied physics. Most of us would regard time as a universal constant. However, the theory of relativity suggests that time is related to the other three conventional dimensions and thus can be slowed down or sped up based upon them. Su-”

“Like with Time Turners?” asked Harry.

“No. The Muggles don’t have Time Turners and they discovered this. Space-”

“How?”

“Will you stop interrupting?” Snape snapped irritably.

“Fine,” Harry shot back. He turned his attention back to his breakfast so that he wouldn’t be driven to punch Snape.

After a few minutes, Snape Summoned an apple. When he saw Harry glance up at it, he said, “Think of space-time as the skin of this apple. This is the fabric of the universe and the only medium in which you can exist. You currently are here.” He placed his finger on the side of the apple to Harry's left. “You wish to go here.” He tapped his finger on the direct opposite side of the apple. “In order to get there, you would have to travel a considerable distance.” He traced his finger from left side of the apple, over the top and to the other side. “Imagine you had the ability to cross through the apple.” He turned the apple ninety degrees and Harry saw a tunnel now passing through it. “Or… imagine you had the ability to warp the very fabric of time and space itself.” The apple began to elongate and the tunnel shortened until it was no more and the skin on either side of the apple pressed flat together. “This is a wormhole. It will allow you to get to the other side of the apple in far less time than it would have taken for you to pass along its skin.”

“So which one do we do?” Harry asked, intrigued by the demonstration.

“I believe that portkeys and Floos allow us to travel via the first method and that Apparating involves the latter.” Snape sent the apple away. “If this hypothesis is true, then in theory, a wizard of sufficient strength and knowledge would be able to Apparate anywhere.”

“Anywhere?” Harry asked, finding that difficult to believe. “So I could Apparate to Australia right now if I had my magic?”

“In theory,” Snape stressed. He glared at Harry disapprovingly. “And you shouldn’t try to test it out unless you are absolutely sure of what you are doing because of the dangers involved. Even the Dark Lord himself relies on flight to travel long distances due to the risks of Apparition. Furthermore, if you think this house doesn’t have Anti-Apparition and Anti-Disapparition wards tightly guarding it, you are-” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Of course I know that. I’d go outside before I tried to Apparate anywhere.”

“It’s not a matter of simply being outside-”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” Harry interjected, annoyed at being lectured as if he didn’t know anything at all. “I’d have to make sure I’m outside the wards. I did successfully evade Voldemort for almost a year.”

“And yet here you are.” Snape sipped his mug again. 

Harry bristled. “You won’t give me my memory back so how do I know it was even my fault?”

“You spoke the Dark Lord’s name,” Snape informed him.

Another door opened in Harry’s mind and he remembered hearing the broadcast, arguing with Hermione, saying Voldemort's name, Greyback and the Snatchers, the Malfoy mansion, Dean, Griphook, Luna, Mr. Ollivander….

His eyes snapped open with no memory of having closed them and he was lying on the floor on his back, staring up at Snape who was kneeling over him with his wand pointed at Harry's head. Snape's eyebrows were drawn in towards each other in an expression of intense concentration. 

“What happened?” Harry croaked, unnerved by the sight of Snape with his wand pointed at him and no memory to explain why.

Snape tucked his wand away and held out his hand to Harry. Harry accepted it and Snape helped him back to his chair.

“I believe you started to remember before something blocked you,” Snape said as he stepped away from Harry once the younger wizard was back in his seat. “One minute you were in your seat, staring at the table and the next you were on the floor, staring at the ceiling. I cast _Rennervate_ and you left your stupor. What do you remember?”

“I did say the name.” Harry frowned as he tried to pick through his muddled brain. “And they caught us…. Hermione was caught….”

“She was,” Snape confirmed. “Everyone escaped but you. You were about to Apparate away with your friends when Lucius grabbed a hold of you and you released your friends rather than bring him with you.”

Harry tried to remember, but it was as if the door had slammed shut again. He was far more cognisant of the memory of his remembering than of the actual memory itself. “How did you know I said his name?”

“The details were shared amongst us,” Snape answered. “Finish your breakfast and we will train.”

“I think something is wrong with me.” Harry rubbed his forehead. He didn’t think it was healthy or normal to have memories that appeared and disappeared suddenly. 

“You are fine,” Snape assured him. “Sometimes the mind will seal off a memory if it is particularly stressful.”

Harry asked doubtfully, “Even more stressful than when I thought I saw one of my best friends die before my eyes?”

“Physical torture can sometimes be more difficult for the mind than psychological torture,” Snape explained. “And your mind did attempt to block that memory for you. Do you remember how it hurt you when I gave you back your memory?”

Harry nodded.

“That isn’t typical. I had to break through a barrier your mind had formed. I imagine that if I had left it alone, it would have become more solidified and ended up as thick as the one that currently surrounds the memory of your capture.”

Harry frowned as he finished off his pumpkin juice. It almost seemed like the memory had started to return on its own. He hadn’t quite remembered the Hallows, but there had been no reason for his mind to suppress the memory. He put down his empty cup and cleared his plate, then stepped away from the table to brush his teeth. He wondered if the cuffs had messed with his mind. Maybe the lack of magic caused effects to happen to him that even Snape couldn’t predict. After all, Voldemort had cut off his access to magic and the two of them shared a unique connection that no one had ever properly explained to him. What if the same thing that stopped the pain in his scar also messed with his brain and suppressed his memories?

The only other explanation Harry could come up with was that Snape had taken the memories, but that didn’t make sense to him. Why would Snape take the memory of the Hallows and his capture? Snape seemed annoyed that Harry hadn’t mentioned the Hallows earlier and if he had suppressed those memories, then why not remove them again when he remembered? There was only one way to find out for sure. Harry spat out his mouthwash and then turned to Snape.

Watching Snape closely to gauge his reaction, Harry announced, “I want the memory of my capture back. I think there’s something important there that I need to know.”

Snape nodded slightly, his face showing no change in expression. “I feel it would be better for you to leave it alone since your mind has developed such a strong barrier to protect it. However, if you believe it is important to remember that event, then I will make the memory available to you again. It may take some time, so we should set aside a day for the task."

Harry nodded. “I want to do it right now.” He felt sure there was something hidden in those memories he needed to uncover.

Snape paused, then said, "Very well, lie down on your bed.'' He left the cell without waiting to see if his instructions were followed. 

Harry climbed onto his mattress and stretched out. He had expected more of a fight from Snape. It made him more inclined to believe Snape when he claimed he had nothing to do with the removal of that particular memory. But if Snape hadn't taken that one, were there other memories he had messed with? Did the feeling of déjà vu only happen, because Snape resealed the barrier when he broke through the first time? Harry's knowledge of what Snape planned to do to him when he pointed that wand straight at Harry's head had been pretty strong for it to have developed after only one event.

Snape returned shortly carrying a small black bag. Harry watched as Snape set it on the table and carefully removed five vials.

“First a healing potion designed specifically for the mind.” Snape held up a crooked, green bottle. He opened it and stepped over to the bed. Harry sat up and opened his mouth. Snape poured in a small amount. It was thick and tasted strangely like mozzarella cheese. Snape floated the vial back over to the table and summoned the next one to him; a short black one. “Secondly, a potion designed to lower your mental guards.”

“To break through the wall in my mind?” Harry asked him.

“To make it as weak as possible.” Snape nodded and fed Harry the second potion, which had a familiar sweet taste he couldn’t quite place.

“Third, a potion to clear your mind.” This one, in a bright red bottle, tasted disgusting and Harry gagged.

Snape uncorked the fourth vial and pressed it into Harry’s hand. “Fourth, a painkiller that will not affect your mind. Drink it all.”

It was thick and slimy and Harry could barely get it down, nearly dropping the white vial when he almost retched. He shoved his hand over his mouth and refused to allow himself to puke. He had to swallow several foul-tasting mouthfuls back down before he finally stopped gagging. Snape wordlessly conjured a glass of pumpkin juice and pressed it into Harry's hand. Harry quaffed it down quickly, but it barely covered the taste.

“Finally, a potion to put you in a dream-like state. I will attempt to return the memory to you while you are unconscious,” Snape explained. “If I am successful, you will remember it again when you wake.”

Harry opened his mouth and Snape dripped a few sweet drops on his tongue. A wave of sleepiness washed over him and he lay back against the bed, closing his eyes, and letting himself drift off.

“Now, count back from ten.” Snape's low voice seemed to drift from across the room.

“Ten … nine … eight … seven … six … five … four … three ….”

“Do the best you can,” Snape ordered, his voice tense. Harry couldn’t move any part of his body. “I need him restored to full health.”

“That’s impossible,” someone Harry didn’t know objected. He felt his clothes being peeled away, but he couldn’t summon the energy required for a fight.

“Your life depends on it,” Snape answered coldly.

He was struggling while being held down against a carpeted floor. His hands were pinned behind his back and his face was being ground into the dark red carpet.

“They’ve escaped!” shrieked Bellatrix.

“It doesn’t matter.” Lucius’s voice was cold and close and Harry fought against his grasp, kicking at the Death Eater as ropes wrapped around him. “We have Potter.”

He was in excruciating pain. Torture beyond anything he had ever felt before. He was screaming and screaming, but he couldn’t hear a sound and his body was twisting and turning in ways that frightened him.

He was in a prison cell with Ron, Luna, Dean, Griphook, and Ollivander. Hermione was screaming in the distance from Bellatrix’s torture. He had to do something!

He was thrown down against the carpet. Someone grabbed his hair and yanked his head back, forcing him to gaze at Voldemort who stood before him with a triumphant gaze. Harry panted, staring at Voldemort in horror. It was all over, this was the end of everything.

“You’ve done well.” Voldemort smiled, his eyes remaining as cruel and reptilian as ever, and Harry knew he’d never make it out alive.

He was naked on his back in his bed and he couldn’t move his body or see anything but blackness. He was crying; his cheeks wet with tears.

Cool fingertips brushed against his cheek and Snape promised, “I won’t hurt you anymore tonight,” as he shifted on the bed. Harry wanted to believe him, but he couldn’t, not now.

He was lying on his stomach and drowning in his blood. He was dying, but he wasn’t scared at all. He was in so much pain, he welcomed the release of death.

The blood left his lungs and he gasped for breath, hating his body for holding on; for fighting after he had given up. 

“What shall we do to him now?” someone asked.

“I know just the spell,” Lucius’ voice slithered over him like a snake and a million knives pierced him everywhere at once.

“Kill me!” he tried to beg, but nothing but blood came out of his mouth.

He was lying on a bed of crimson sheets, staring at a wall. He tried to move, but no part of his body obeyed his commands. He was breathing and his heart was beating, but he couldn’t move a single muscle, not even to close his eyes. Panic flowed through him and he desperately tried to force various parts of his body to move; to gain some reassurance that he wasn't trapped inside a completely paralysed body. A hand grabbed his arm and rolled him over and he found himself on his back, staring up at Snape who had a look of concentration on his face as though he were observing a brewing potion. Snape placed his hand on Harry’s chin and forced his mouth open. Harry felt a thick potion being poured into his mouth and Snape closed his mouth, massaging the potion down his throat. Harry wanted to taste it, to figure out what he had been given, but even his taste buds refused to work. 

No, no more potions, no more memories. He wanted to forget again. It wasn’t right. He wanted to move. He needed to move. His body began to jerk and spasm as if he were being struck with round after round of Cruciatus. Harry felt Snape's larger body cover his own and pin him down against the bed into the sheets. He wanted to scream, but when his mouth finally jerked open, he could no longer breathe. The potions and his breakfast filled his airway and spewed from his mouth.

He was roughly tossed to his side and he dimly heard Snape cast, " _Anapneo!_ " and Harry felt himself breathe again.

Harry gasped for breath as his eyes rolled back in his head and his whole body convulsed. He tried to find something to grab, to help hold himself steady, but he couldn't see a thing and still had no control over his wildly thrashing limbs.

“ _Rennervate!_ " Snape yelled, over and over again. " _Rennervate!_ ”

Harry's neck snapped back, his spine bending backwards as if he were breaking in half and all the screams he couldn't voice earlier ripped from his throat. The noise was so inhuman the only reason he knew he was making the sounds was that he could feel his vocal cords moving. Control of his body returned to him and he collapsed against the bed, all strength gone from him.

“Harry!" Snape pushed him onto his side and grabbed his chin, tilting his head up. "Harry, wake up!"

He was too exhausted to even do such a simple task. 

"Harry!" Snape's voice became more urgent. "Open your eyes, Harry! Look at me!"

Harry summoned all his strength and forced open his heavy lids. Snape’s face was right before his own, completely pale as if all the blood had been sucked from his body. His wild eyes had a look Harry had never seen before and it took him a moment to realise what it was: fear.

“Are you in pain?” Snape's voice was unsteady and far from the cool calmness to which Harry was used and his eyes flickered across Harry's face as his hands roamed over Harry's body, testing his pulse and blood pressure; casting soft spells that Harry didn't recognise.

“Not anymore,” Harry managed to gasp out, his breathing still short and difficult. A stray spasm rocketed through his body and he grabbed Snape's robes for support.

Snape's strong arms wrapped around Harry, propping him up into a sitting position. Harry leaned against his chest so that his head rested against Snape's sternum. Snape held him steady with his right arm while he rubbed Harry's back with the other.

"Breathe, slow and deep," he instructed in a calmer tone. Harry drew great gulps of air, trying to do as Snape had asked, but each breath left him more light headed and dizzy. Snape's soothing hand slid around to rest on Harry's abdomen. "With your diaphragm, not your lungs." 

Harry wasn't sure what he meant, but he tried to use his stomach in his breathing and suddenly he could breath properly again. When his breath slowed closer to normal and his heart no longer felt as though it would jump from his chest, Harry allowed himself to relax, leaning against Snape as he rested. 

The hand that was resting against his stomach left, plucking a glass of water from midair. Snape pressed the glass against Harry’s lips and Harry drank the water gratefully, uncaring that most of it slopped down his front. When Harry had finished the glass, Snape sent it away, his free hand brushing back Harry's fringe.

"I wa- I was ..." Harry tried to tell him, but he couldn't speak for some reason and little shocks ran through his body, making him shiver uncontrollably.

“Don’t speak until you are ready,” Snape insisted. He cleaned the vomit with flicks of his wand and laid Harry back on the bed. “I must go send a note to the Dark Lord explaining why you were in pain or else he will send someone to check on me. Rest and we will speak when I return.” He slipped off the bed and hurried off in a cloud of black.

Harry curled up in a ball. The memories were still there, lingering beneath the surface raw and strong, and so very painful. He thought of asking Snape to take them away again, but he felt he had to bear it. A tear ran over his nose and he realised he was crying, but his tears were the least of his worries. Snape had been telling the truth when he said that Harry had been captured while everyone else escaped. Hermione hadn't been imprisoned along with him. But what had happened in those early days of his capture? If those memories were just a taste of what had happened to him, he didn’t want anymore. He understood why his mind had sealed them off. It had been a mistake to request them back, he could see that now.

Snape returned in a flurry of energy. He had a new bag of potions which he dropped on the table and immediately opened.

“No more potions,” insisted Harry.

Snape frowned at him. “I feel that a restorative potion-”

“No.” Harry shook his head. “No more.”

Snape left the bag on the table and stepped over to the bed. He placed his hand on Harry’s forehead and his eyebrows knit together as he checked Harry's temperature. 

“You’re freezing. Come here.”

Harry shakily rolled to the edge of the bed and Snape helped him to his feet, wrapping his arms around Harry's chest. Harry’s legs were quivering far too much for him to stand, so Snape picked him up and carried him into the library, cradling Harry tightly against his chest. Snape laid him gently on the couch, fetched a pillow for beneath his head, and Summoned a blanket, smoothing it over Harry as if he were tucking him into bed. His eyes never left Harry's face throughout the whole process and once he finished, he started a fire in the fireplace with a flick of his wand and then took a few steps backwards, dropping into a chair that flew forward to catch him.

“How do you feel?” Snape asked after a minute, his voice tight.

“Terrible.” Harry pulled the blanket tightly around himself. He hadn’t even been aware he was cold, but with the fire and the thick blanket, the tremors subsided to a more manageable level. “Better than before, but I still can’t stop myself from shaking. It was worse. Far worse than last time.”

“I had not anticipated the … strength of your reaction,” Snape admitted. “I will not be trying that again.” After a pause, he softly asked, “What did you remember?”

Harry stared at the fire. “I remembered.… It was all mixed up. I'm not sure when each memory happened." He tried to put each memory in a logical order. "I think.... I heard Bellatrix torturing Hermione. We were locked in a cell.… Everyone else escaped, but…. Malfoy, he caught me. In his home, I think. Voldemort … was there…. They….” He closed his eyes as if he could wish the memory away. “Tortured me. I thought I was going to die. I- I wanted to die. You were there. You told someone to heal me and he said it was impossible. You said he had to, that his life depended on it. And then I was…. I couldn’t move. I was paralysed on my bed. I was- I was hurt. And you were touching me. You said, ‘I won’t hurt you anymore tonight’ and I didn’t believe you.” Harry opened his eyes and looked over at Snape. “How many of my memories are gone?”

Snape’s face was pale in the flickering firelight which cast long shadows over his face, concealing most of his expression to Harry. “Nearly five days’ worth,” he answered tightly. 

“Five days….” Harry lay back against the couch and closed his eyes again. “Why was it like that?”

“I don’t know,” admitted Snape, his voice betraying his hatred of those words. “I theorise that these ‘mental walls’ you’ve described to me are the cause of it. I imagine that they are some sort of defence mechanism that you developed to protect yourself during torture. I started to break through them, but your reaction was so … adverse, I did not dare press further. If you’d like, I can reseal the memories you've recovered.”

“No.” Harry shook his head. “I need them. If only to remind myself why I shouldn’t try that again.”

Snape did not say anything in response and they both sat quietly for several minutes. Harry rested as the tremors slowly left his body, and his heart and breathing returned to normal. He heard Snape stand and he opened his eyes to see Snape approach him and kneel beside the edge of the couch. The colour had returned to his sallow face and his eyes had lost their fear. He placed his cold hand on Harry’s forehead and then slid it down to his neck to touch his pulse. 

“How do you feel?” Snape asked softly, his fingers still on Harry’s pulse.

“Hungry,” Harry answered. His stomach had finally settled down and he thought he could keep his meal down this time.

The corner of Snape’s mouth quirked up in a smile. He stood and pulled out his wand, flicking it at Harry and a chain appeared between Harry’s right cuff and the floor. 

“I’ll be back shortly.” He strode off, walking up the stairs with even but hurried steps.

Harry closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. The couch and blanket smelled strongly of Snape and Harry wondered if he spent a lot of his free time in here, reading. Feeling warmed and well protected, Harry relaxed against the couch. He inhaled the smells of Snape, the fire and the slight electric scent of magic that still lingered in the air.

 

[[ _Thanks for reading! Please review!_ ]]


	44. Chapter 44

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

[[ _Here is the second part of chapter 43._ ]]

Snape’s footsteps sounded on the stairs and Harry sat up as best as he could, as the chain was only as long as his arm and prevented him from moving very far. Snape stepped into the library carrying the breakfast tray in his hand. He removed the chain from Harry’s cuff and Harry organised the blanket around himself so he could eat. Snape placed the tray over Harry’s lap and adjusted the legs on it to make it stable. He tapped it with his wand and a plate of sandwiches appeared along with Snape’s mug of tea, a glass of pumpkin juice, cubes of cheese, green grapes, and biscuits. Snape retrieved his mug and sat on the other end of the couch.

Harry eagerly bit into the sandwiches which were stuffed with sliced turkey. Once the food hit his stomach, the shakes left him and he felt almost physically normal again. Now that he was warm and had food in his stomach, he allowed himself to think back over the memories. As horrible as they were, he felt he needed to keep them in his mind. He'd been responsible for their capture and Hermione’s torture, but he also helped his friends escape. He now understood why Malfoy unnerved him so much. He had forgot the horrific spells Malfoy had used to torture him, but some deep part of his brain remembered all the fear and pain. 

Most of all, Harry felt he could trust Snape now. Snape tried to warn him that recovering the memories might be dangerous and he'd been honest in his descriptions of what happened to Harry after his capture. The only thing that puzzled him was that one memory of Snape, which didn’t really fit with the others. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought Snape had raped him shortly after his capture. But that didn’t make sense either. Snape told Voldemort that Harry was a virgin and Snape wouldn’t have lied to Voldemort. 

Besides, Snape didn’t act like a man who was taking advantage of something he always wanted. He could’ve lied to Harry and claimed that Voldemort wanted multiple visions of sex or insisted on having sex with him during times when Voldemort hadn’t checked the memory. Harry wouldn’t have known the difference. No, Snape had probably been trying to heal him. Harry remembered how he had hated it when Snape touched him at the beginning, even when the older wizard had been trying to help him. He thought the worst of Snape then, but he could hardly be blamed; it wasn’t as if Snape had done anything to dispel that belief.

Harry discreetly glanced at Snape and noticed Snape was watching him while pretending he wasn't. Harry didn't think the intense fear he'd seen in Snape's eyes was because Snape was worried he'd harmed his Master's prized possession. No, it was something else, because Snape wasn’t as relaxed as normal. Even with his bad vision, Harry recognised the subtle signs – the squareness of his shoulders and the very mechanical way he drank from his mug.

Harry realised how difficult this whole situation must be for Snape. He was forced to not only align himself with the son of the man he had hated more than anyone else in the world, but also try to keep him happy. On top of that, he must remain in the favour of a demanding, cruel Master who would kill Snape the second he discovered or even suspected his treachery. It wasn't as horrific as what he himself had to go through, since Snape chose to involve himself with Voldemort and wasn't tortured on a regular basis. But … even with Snape’s mostly selfish desire to free himself of a personal hindrance, he still seemed to be trying to help Harry as best he knew how most of the time. Even with all his cruelty and insults, he still managed to make Harry feel considerably safe and protected. Snape cared for him, Harry felt sure of it, even if Snape would never admit it out loud.

“Shall I fetch more?” Snape asked, after Harry had eaten the last of the grapes, finishing off his meal.

“No, I’m good. I want to train now.”

“I feel you should rest,” Snape insisted.

“Nah, I’m telling you, I’m fine.” Harry set the tray on the floor, stood up and stretched. He felt perfectly healthy, as if the horrible incidence with the potions and the memories had never happened. He wanted to train. Now that he was sure his friends had escaped, he felt as though he should concentrate on trying to get back to them as soon as possible. Snape stood and sent away the dishes with a flick of his wand.

“Follow me.” Snape led him up the stairs.

Harry eagerly trotted after him. “What are we working on today?”

“I feel that you should work on aim-”

“I swear to you, I’m fine,” Harry insisted.

“You will aim first,” Snape firmly responded with a glare at Harry to silence any further arguments. “We must be prudent; especially at this stage.”

Harry nodded and accepted the laser pointer. ‘At this stage’ could only mean they were near the end and he would challenge Voldemort soon. Harry couldn’t wait, he felt more than ready.

Snape created fake Death Eaters for Harry and spelled them to dance around the room in very realistic movements. When Harry turned towards them, they began to weave and were quick to dodge at the first hint of an attack. He had to learn to target them from the corner of his eyes. He knew the laser was faster than a spell so he tried to take that into account in his aiming. He'd been practising for a few hours when the Death Eaters suddenly vanished. 

“Someone is here.” Snape Summoned the hamper of cleaning supplies to himself and thrust it into Harry’s hands, snatching the laser pointer from Harry as he did so. “On your knees. Clean.” 

Harry dropped to his knees and pulled out the rag. He scrubbed at a spot on the floor as he watched Snape march across the room. 

One of the thick double doors to the throne room slammed open and Avery stormed in. Harry’s fist clenched the rag tightly and he held down his hate. He wanted nothing more than to stride across the room and continue the beating he'd given Avery.

“I know you killed him, Severus!” Avery yelled as he marched across the room towards Snape, his robes billowing around his ankles like smoke. Snape stood still, his back straight and his wand gripped tightly in his hand.

“Killed who?” asked Snape, his voice deep and cold.

“Don’t play games with me!” Avery paused barely an arm span away from Snape and waved a finger at him. “Hathaway! You killed him!”

“I was informed that the Order killed him,” replied Snape with a hint of amusement to his voice. Although his wand was aimed directly at Avery, his whole manner spoke more of ease and confidence than aggression.

Avery’s face, which had been twisted and red, turned an ugly shade of purple at that comment. “You did it!” Avery screamed and Harry wondered if the Death Eater had snapped. “It’s no coincidence! He had the slave suck him off and then he died! I wanted to fuck him and suddenly I’ve fallen from His favour, saved only by my father!”

“You shouldn’t blame your mistakes-” Snape started, his voice still carrying mirth.

“NO!" Avery's hand jerked at Snape as if he were casting Dark Magic with his finger tip. "You did something to me! You messed with my mind!”

“And how did I do that? The Dark Lord certainly would’ve noticed any magic cast in his presence,” Snape calmly pointed out with smooth conviction. If Harry hadn’t known Snape was lying, he would’ve believed him.

“I don’t know how you did it, but you did! I’m on to you!” Avery snarled, looking positively deranged. “You and him!” He whirled to look at Harry. “You’re working together!” He strode towards Harry, clearly intending to harm him, and Harry had to struggle to keep his smirk off his face. He wanted Avery to come and try to hurt him just so he could rough the sick bastard up again. 

A red spell raced in front of Avery, nearly striking him as it crossed his path and the Death Eater stopped dead in his tracks. Avery whirled around, whipping out his wand to point it at Snape who had his own wand pointed at Avery in return and a murderous look on his face.

“Don’t you dare touch him,” Snape snarled, his voice dripping with venom. He marched towards Avery, his demeanour completely changed to that of a predator. He stopped about two arm spans away from Avery and turned his glare on Harry. “Get back to your work.” He flicked his wand at Harry and the young wizard felt the telltale static-like charge of _Muffliato_ right before it filled his ears. Harry turned his eyes down to the floor and pretended to scrub the marble.

Harry couldn't keep his eyes focused on the marble for long and he peeked up to see the wizards pointing their wands at each other, both with murderous looks on their faces. Avery was yelling something at Snape. Snape glared at him and then responded with something that made Avery’s face twist even more and he was yelling again. Snape spoke again and Avery’s face went deathly white and he stumbled back a few steps. Snape’s face twisted into that horrible smile that chilled Harry to the bone. As Harry watched with fascination, Snape slowly advanced on Avery, speaking slowly but deliberately. Harry was reminded of a cat stalking its prey and Avery looked like a terrified mouse, scurrying backwards quickly, his wand firmly fixed on Snape but trembling the entire time. At the door, he paused, yelled something at Snape, and then hurried out.

Snape turned, cast the chaining spell on Harry, then strode quickly after the other Death Eater.

Harry stared at his retreating form, wishing desperately he could have heard the argument. What did Snape threaten Avery with to cause such a reaction?

After a minute, Snape returned, his posture and features back to their normal neutrality as if he hadn’t just argued with a fellow Death Eater. He spoke words Harry couldn’t understand and Harry pointed to his ear. Snape waved his wand and the buzzing left Harry’s ears while the chain disappeared. 

“Never, ever look a Death Eater in the eyes,” Snape lectured. “Always play your part.”

“What did you say to him to make him leave?” Harry asked curiously.

“That’s none of your business,” Snape said firmly.

“Did you kill that Death Eater?”

“Don’t be stupid. How could I do that? You should resume your lessons.” He turned away from Harry and began to set up the exercise again. 

Harry watched him from the floor. Snape had murdered that Death Eater, he was sure of it. Snape’s tone of voice and facial expression right now was exactly the same as when he lied to Avery. Had he really killed a man for sexually abusing Harry? Snape hadn’t killed Avery. But then, Avery hadn’t actually raped him and it sounded as though Avery’s father was important. Snape had been so angry the day after the rape and Harry had believed he'd just been in a bad mood. But now that he thought about it, could Snape have been… jealous? Harry knew in an instant he was right, but the thought was so startling, he forgot to pay attention to his surroundings and one of the fake Death Eaters almost ran into him.

“Don’t waste my time, Potter,” Snape said coolly. “You will train or return to your cage.”

“I’ll train.” Harry jumped to his feet and effortlessly shot down the fake Death Eater. He returned to the exercise, but couldn’t concentrate on it any longer. He kept sneaking glances at Snape who was focused on controlling the fake Death Eaters. Snape had been jealous, he was sure of it. The Potions Master had no other reason to kill the Death Eater who molested Harry. 

Harry didn’t know what to think. It was the first time he was glad Snape was a crafty murderer. He was dying to know how Snape got the Death Eater killed without leaving the building. Snape said he'd heard the Order killed Hathaway. Was Snape in contact with the Order or had he been deflecting the blame? Harry hoped whatever Snape did could not be traced back to him in anyway. Harry's conscience nagged at him and for a moment he felt a bit of guilt over the Death Eater’s death, which he savagely pushed away. He had nothing to feel guilty about, he was the one who'd been abused. It wasn’t as if he told, or even suggested to Snape, that the Death Eater should be killed. Snape chose to murder him entirely on his own. 

“Focus, Potter,” ordered Snape and Harry realised he hadn’t been aiming at all.

“Sorry.” He turned his attention back to the exercise. “If you were going to murder someone without getting close to them, how would you do it?”

“If you seriously think I will answer that question, then you are more stupid than I previously thought, which is really quite something,” Snape responded sharply.

Harry wasn’t going to let Snape rile him this time. “You should be careful. Other people might suspect you of murdering that Death Eater.”

“Avery is a jealous fool who has levelled several outrageous accusations at me.” Snape's voice clearly communicated his disgust. “I’m not concerned.”

Harry picked his words with care. As much as he appreciated the effort, the act was rather hot-headed on Snape’s part. If Voldemort suspected Snape had killed that Death Eater, Snape would be taken from him. Harry needed to warn Snape not to do it again. “If another Death Eater… does what Hathaway did and dies, it will look very suspicious. Or even if Avery dies, then-”

“Of course I know that,” Snape answered scornfully. “Unlike you, I do use my mind quite often.”

Harry realised that Snape would continue to insult him if he persisted so he let the issue drop. He hoped the other Death Eaters suspected Snape of killing Hathaway as well and wouldn’t try to rape him anymore. If any of them did try to touch him, he’d kill them himself, just like he’d kill Avery. The thought of it made his heart race and he turned back to Snape.

“I think we’ve been prudent long enough. I’d like to dodge.”

Snape gazed at him for a moment before he nodded. “You will attempt to ‘kill’ the Death Eaters by causing their spells to hit each other.” He created six large black clouds of balls that began to roam around the room as if they were living creatures. Harry tossed the laser pointer back to Snape and watched them as they floated around the room aimlessly. Suddenly, a ball shot out of one of them at him and soon they were all attacking him. Harry targeted one, trying to get the others to strike it.

“How will I know if one was hit since we aren’t using spells?” Harry asked, as he and the fake Death Eater both dodged out of the way of a ball at the last second.

“I have spelled them to vanish if they are hit,” explained Snape.

“You know….” Harry ducked out of the way of four projectiles and rolled across the floor before regaining his footing. “This is much more difficult than it would be to fight actual Death Eaters. These things can shoot from any direction.”

“It is better for you to be over-trained than not enough,” Snape pointed out. “Your window of opportunity is directly after an attack has been made. Like wizards, they cannot cast continuously.”

Harry nodded. He tried to keep track of how recently all six of them had fired at him, but it was too difficult and he soon got lost. He decided to focus on just two and waited for the perfect moment to dive between them. One shot at Harry before the other and he dove towards it while the other fired. His ploy was successful and the fake Death Eater vanished.

“I did it!” he shouted triumphantly and barely managed to dodge in his distraction.

“Concentrate,” Snape reminded him.

Harry nodded and picked out two more black forms to focus on. He tried the same attempt, but they had got cleverer and the second didn’t fire at Harry.

“These are smarter than actual Death Eaters,” Harry joked.

“Never underestimate your enemy,” Snape ordered him sharply. Simultaneously, the Death Eaters shot two balls at Harry and he barely managed to avoid getting hit.

Harry reminded himself to concentrate and focus. He tried several more ploys but was unsuccessful and had not managed to ‘trick’ any more of them by the time Snape stopped the exercise.

“That is sufficient.”

Harry was disappointed with himself. He wanted to be better than ‘sufficient.’ He trudged after Snape, gazing longingly at the couch in the library as he passed it. He wanted to curl up in front of the fire with a cup of tea. He was bored of his cell and its stark white walls.

He stepped into the shower and planned his approach. He doubted Snape could leave him in the library alone for long even if he were chained to the couch. He needed to convince Snape to remain in there with him.

“Could I read books on magical theory if you remained with me and took the books from me the instant someone showed up?” Harry asked as he soaped off his arms.

Snape looked up from his book. “What do you wish to know?”

Harry thought. “I guess I should read your best books on the Hallows and wand lore as well. If you had any on Horcruxes-”

Snape made a noise of derision.

“I thought that if anyone had books about them it’d be you,” Harry quickly explained. “I mean, you had already heard of them before I told you about it and Voldemort doesn’t seem like the type who would’ve shared that with his followers. Even you.”

“While I do possess a few tomes that briefly describe Horcruxes and the spell used in the creation of them, I would not be allowed to have books on such Dark Magic even in the same room with you,” Snape pointed out. 

Harry shrugged. “I know I’m not allowed to be with owls either. But we’ll need to find a way to destroy the last two Horcruxes if Ron and Hermione can’t. I guess you could just _Avada Kedavra_ Nagini, but we don’t have the sword or a basilisk fang for the Diadem.”

“As I understand it, in order for a Horcrux to be destroyed, the object in which it is contained must be damaged beyond all repair,” Snape mused, closing his book. “There are several dark spells-”

“What about that potion you are making for Voldemort? Could you give it to Nagini secretly?” Harry asked as he rinsed his hair.

“Which one?” Snape's eyebrows drew in toward each other as he frowned.

“The one that would destroy my soul but leave my body intact,” Harry reminded him. “If you make it, you could give it to Nagini and kill the Horcrux. She’d still be alive, so he’d be a lot more reckless than if he knew his Horcrux was destroyed.”

Snape’s eyebrows knit together in his usual expression of extreme displeasure. “While I have been attempting to develop such a potion, I have been unsuccessful in my efforts thus far. The soul – its origins, its properties, its ultimate residence within the body….” Snape shook his head. “I fear this is one area where potions will be of little use.” He sounded very disgruntled and Harry could tell he hated admitting he was unable to fix something with potions. “My main obstacle is confirming a positive result. How can I do that even in the destruction of a single soul, much less the destruction of one residing beside another? To kill is easy. Destroying a body … simple, child’s play.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Human bodies are fragile and can be created and destroyed on a whim. But a soul survives even the most complete destruction of the body for most of us.”

Harry climbed out of the tub and dried off. “What about the Dementors?”

“In the admittedly limited literature on Dementors it is most commonly stated that they remove souls rather than destroying them. No one knows what happens to the souls after the individual has been Kissed. I advised the Dark Lord against this course of action as we currently have no way of knowing how completely the soul is removed. I doubt the Dark Lord would ever allow a Dementor to approach Nagini anyway.”

Harry frowned. “So, no possibility of a potion to destroy the Horcrux in Nagini without destroying her?”

Snape slowly nodded. “Not in our current situation. We have no sure way to test the potion ahead of time. If given enough time and wider access to materials, I might be able to create one, but I cannot do it while trapped here.”

“Not a lot of bodies with two souls,” Harry agreed as he thought over their problem. “Is there a way two souls can end up in the same body besides the creation of a Horcrux?”

“There are, but it is uncommon and often involves very Dark Magic. Such magic leaves traces that would be difficult to disguise from the Dark Lord,” Snape explained.

“So you've given up on it?”

“No, not yet.” Snape stood. “Come, you need to put on your potion and eat your dinner.”

Harry snatched the bottle of potion off the tub and spread his towel on the rug before he sat down, turning his back towards Snape. He drizzled the lotion over his legs and then passed the bottle back towards Snape who took it and knelt behind him.

“Books on the Hallows should be harmless enough, right?” Harry asked hopefully as he rubbed the lotion into his legs.

“While I am loath to deny you any literature,” Snape explained as he massaged the lotion into Harry’s upper back. “I should not have those books anywhere near you. I can give you a volume on wand lore if you insist on reading works I have already perused.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” Harry tried to reassure him. “There may be a clue that you didn’t recognise that I would. If you want me to read my current book, I’ll do that. I just don’t want to be stuck in my cell for several more hours alone. I don’t feel tired at all. I didn’t train long enough.”

Snape stepped away from him and washed his hands in the sink. “You may read your Muggle books in the library after dinner.”

“Great.” Harry walked back to his cell. “What are the spells that will destroy Horcruxes?”

“I will tell you later.” Snape followed him in through the bars.

“Later?” Harry stopped in his tracks, turned around, and crossed his arms. “What happens if you die?”

“I don’t intend to die until after the Dark Lord is destroyed at the earliest.” Snape stepped over to the table and the smell of the conjured food made Harry’s stomach grumble.

Harry walked over to take his seat. “Accidents do happen, you know. What if he finds out what we are doing?”

Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry. “He won’t unless you-”

“Do something stupid,” Harry petulantly finished for him. “When have I done something stupid in front of him?”

“You’ve engaged in plenty of asinine behaviour in front of me and that is enough,” Snape answered.

“I told you, I-”

“This argument only further convinces me you are not ready,” Snape said in an icy voice. “Only yesterday you left my presence and stole my wand. If you are serious about your training then you will prove to me your discipline.”

Harry stabbed at his odd-looking, brightly orange stew, spearing a piece of chicken on the end of his spoon. He thought it was incredibly unfair of Snape to pin the entire argument on Harry, especially when Snape had instigated most of it. If he was hot-headed, then so was Snape. “I can’t work with you if you are going to be a complete arsehole to me. I’ll show you respect and discipline if you do the same for me.”

“I will train you however I see fit,” answered Snape, his voice soft and deadly.

“I don’t need to be trained every hour of the day.” When Snape opened his mouth to interject, Harry quickly continued. “When I’m in front of him, I know what I’ve got to do and I’ll do it, but I can’t stand being a slave every second of the day. If you want to insult me and try to make me lose my temper to test my patience, that’s fine, just tell me before you start.” Snape didn’t say anything in response and Harry looked down at his stew. “Is it supposed to be this colour?”

“It’s murgh tikka masala. You’ve never had it before?”

“No, they never had it at Hogwarts.” Harry stared at the piece of chicken on the end of his spoon suspiciously.

“The fodder you preferred at Hogwarts is hardly the epitome of cuisine.” Snape gazed at him with contempt. “Have you never been to a restaurant?”

“I rarely got to go places with my relatives,” Harry answered sullenly, hate stirring up in him. He wanted to dump the bowl over Snape’s head.

Snape adopted his neutral expression again. “It is a chicken curry that is one of the most popular dishes in all of Britain.”

“Curry … that’s Indian, right?”

“It is similar to an Indian dish known as murgh makhani - butter chicken, but murgh tikka masala, which translates to 'chicken pieces with spices,' originated in England.”

Harry hesitantly took a bite. It was quite delicious – moist, succulent chicken marinated in an unusual but savoury blend of spices. It was a bit spicier than anything else Snape had served him, but he could handle it. Snape motioned to the plate beside Harry which contained cut tomatoes, onions, a bowl of strange-looking white stuff, and flat pieces of bread in the shape of fat teardrops.

“In India, curries are traditionally eaten by hand, using pieces of naan," he pointed to the bread, "to scoop up the ingredients. The cucumber raita,” he motioned to the bowl of chunky white stuff, “is a yogurt side that will offset the spices. If the dish is too spicy for you, add more of that.”

“It’s fine,” Harry answered, feeling the slow burn of the spices coming on. He tore off a piece of the naan and used it to scoop up some stew, discovering rice which had been buried under the sauce. With the bread, it was absolutely delicious. He tried the raita, but the taste wasn’t to his liking.

“Mix it in if you wish to cool the dish down,” Snape instructed. “The flavours will grow on you.”

“You got a new cookbook?” Harry asked.

“I’ve had this one for several weeks.” Snape sipped his tea. “I had difficulty collecting the various spices in their unprocessed form. They aren’t very common here and Strix balks at flying far distances.”

Harry wondered where ‘here’ was but knew better than to try to ask. He assumed their location was somewhere outside of England, especially if Strix had to fly a far distance to collect ingredients for a popular British dish. Maybe he was on the mainland. “Did you make Strix fly it in the end?”

Snape snorted. “I would be waiting weeks.”

“Weeks?” Harry echoed. They really must be far from England. He tried to remember how long it had taken Hedwig to fly to France and back.

“Not for the reasons you are thinking,” Snape quickly corrected him. “She delivers and fetches post at an astoundingly slow rate. I assumed that she was carrying everything to a third party-”

“That’s how they're reading your letters?” Harry interrupted. He thought of his letter and how he had trusted Strix not to show it to anyone else. But if she had taken it to this other person…. She couldn’t have. He would’ve got in trouble for sending it.

“I assumed so.” Snape nodded. “If I was the Dark Lord, that’s what I would do. It would also help keep this location a secret, particularly if that third party had many different owl visitors. I have not discounted that possibility, but I have also begun to suspect that she is simply lazy and would rather hunt than deliver materials. Sometimes I have stepped out with a letter for her and she is no where to be found. When she finally returns, she has no new post for me. I have also purchased special food for her so that she will not have to spend time hunting and she will eat all the food and still hunt,” he complained, sounding very disgruntled.

Harry chuckled. “Where did you get her anyway?”

“The Dark Lord procured her for me when I was positioned here. I now rely on fellow Death Eaters to bring me anything of importance.”

“You must not get packages very often then, because they only arrive every three days at the most,” Harry commented as he chased the last piece of chicken down.

“I have visitors almost every day,” Snape informed him. “Most of them arrive and leave before you wake.”

“Why so early?”

“They have to go to work.” Snape sent away his empty mug.

“If you made this from scratch, then it must’ve taken you a long time to cook,” Harry mused. “And yet you have three full meals prepared each day, you still create new potions, brew ones for Voldemort and for me, do the household chores, read your books, interact with the other Death Eaters, and spend hours training me. I don’t think I sleep that long.”

“I take a potion that allows me to decrease the amount of time I spend asleep by removing the unnecessary stages. I have another potion that allows me to avoid sleep entirely if necessary, but I have found that my cognitive functions decline after its use, so I try not to take it more than once a week as necessary,” Snape explained. “I also use magic to aid in the household duties.”

“Can I take the potion? I could train for even longer.” Harry pushed his mostly empty dishes away.

Snape cleared them and stood. “'May I' and of course not. Youths need several hours of sleep more than adults and your body requires time to rest and heal.”

“I’m an adult,” insisted Harry.

“You’ve finished growing?” Snape arched an eyebrow at him.

Harry narrowed his eyes. If he said ‘yes’ then he would be admitting that he would always be smaller than Snape, but if he said ‘no’ then he would have to acknowledge that he wasn’t fully an adult yet. “I don’t know.”

“Then we will err on the side of caution. Fetch your book if you wish to read in the library.” Snape stepped out through the bars.

Harry retrieved his book from under the mattress and followed Snape into the library. He started to sprawl out on the couch when Snape ordered, “On the floor. If someone should come in, then you will do exactly as I command.”

“Okay,” Harry agreed, disappointed that he couldn’t lie on the couch. He understood why he had to remain on the rug, but he hoped that Snape would relax his guard and let him on the couch. Snape started the fire again and Harry lay on his stomach, enjoying the warmth of the fire against his skin. Snape Summoned a thick packet of papers and sat on the couch, his feet near Harry’s.

Harry flipped to where he had left off in his book. The lights in the library were dimmer than the bright lights of his cell and even with the firelight, he had to strain his eyesight to read properly.

“You will injure your eyes,” said Snape. “Here.”

Harry turned his head and saw his glasses in the air about an arm span away. He reached out, grabbed them and slid them on. “Thanks.” He grinned at Snape, who gave him a curt nod and returned to his thick pile of papers.

With his glasses on, it was much easier for him to read and he finished the last few chapters of the book. He placed it on the floor and turned back to see Snape angrily writing all over a piece of parchment with the same type of quill he used for grading papers.

“Are you grading papers?” Harry asked, not believing what he was seeing. There was no way Snape was teaching along with everything else he was doing.

“No. I am correcting this imbecile’s grammar and spelling.” He slashed out an entire section with a vicious jerk of his quill.

Harry crawled closer and saw a pile of read letters on Snape’s right that were full of red ink as well. “Why do you correct them if they are never going to see the letters?”

“They will see it,” Snape answered, writing furiously at the bottom of the letter. “I send the originals back with my reply.”

Harry grinned. Only Snape would feel the need to instruct and insult at every single opportunity available to him. He inched closer to see what was written on the papers, but only managed to make out a big, red ‘NO’ before Snape put his hand on the papers, blocking Harry's view. “Do I need to take away your glasses?” He frowned disapprovingly at Harry.

Harry sat back on his heels. “Requests for potions?” he guessed.

Snape added the letter in his hand to the pile and picked up another one from the pile on the table. “Yes. There are far too many Death Eaters who believe that wearing black and swearing loyalty to the Dark Lord gives them the right to request asinine favours of his other followers.” His quill flourished as he made his corrections. “It’s amazing how some of these cretins ever managed to graduate from Hogwarts.” He crossed out a large chunk of text and wrote a very vicious looking reply at the bottom before tossing the letter on top of the corrected pile and picking up another. He skimmed it quickly, shaking his head. “Yes, another member of _Pan troglodytes_ asking if I have a ‘quick, affective potion that will kill a person without leaving a trase,’” he read, emphasising the misspellings.

“They’re Death Eaters,” Harry commented contemptuously.

Snape fixed him with a glare. “What have I told you about underestimating your enemy? I’ve conversed with many Death Eaters who are far more intelligent than the likes of you. Even without prejudice on my part, the Slytherins would’ve earned marks above most of Gryffindor. There are too many who hold high rank due to birth rather than merit, but even among those there are plenty who are quite astute. Do you believe yourself to be more intelligent than Lucius?”

“I just don’t understand how someone who is smart would willingly become the slave of someone else since that’s basically what you are to Voldemort. I know you said the ideas were more important, but I still don’t understand why you hate Muggles so much that you’d give up your independence. Maybe they treated you like shit and that’s why you hate them, but my dad and his friends treated you like that, too, and they were mostly pureblood. And Voldemort treats you like shit unless you do exactly what he wants. I bow before Voldemort, because I have to, but you freely gave him control over you. Why become the slave of someone who wouldn't think twice about murdering you?”

Snape gazed at Harry for a bit, his eyes searching Harry’s face. Finally, he asked, “Do you want to know why I joined the Death Eaters?”

“Yeah.” Harry watched him. He had the feeling that he was close to an answer.

Snape raised his hand and a small, thin, red paperback book flew to him. “I will tell you why I joined the Death Eaters if you can read and understand this book.” He handed it to Harry who took it and read the title.

“ _The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus_ by Christopher Marlowe.” Harry glanced up at him. “I don’t understand why you want me to read this first.”

“I want to see if you can understand it. I’m curious to see if you really are more intelligent than the average Death Eater,” Snape explained. “If you can comprehend what’s written there then I will tell you what you want to know.”

Harry looked down at the cover of the book. “And if we fight Voldemort before I finish reading it?”

“Then I will tell you after,” Snape promised. “If you understand it.”

Harry nodded. He could always have Hermione explain it to him if it came to that, but he hoped that he’d be able to understand it for himself. He wanted to prove himself to Snape.

“I must return to my brewing.” Snape stood and organised his letters into two neat piles with a swish of his wand.

Harry stood and walked back to his cell, carrying his new book. Snape followed and spelled the bars open for him and Harry stepped through. He took off his glasses and handed them back through the bars to Snape before walking over to his bed. He placed his new book under the mattress. “D’you want the art book back?”

“I don’t intend to read it anytime soon. You may keep it.” Snape tucked the glasses away.

Harry decided to keep it. If nothing else, he could use it for wank material while Snape was off training Draco. Snape stepped in through the bars. “I will need to change your sheets.” He strode over to the bed and used magic to remove all the sheets with a quick flick of his wand. He examined the mattress closely, waving his wand over the surface and a green glow appeared.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked.

“Some time ago, I cast a spell on the mattresses to prevent fluids from penetrating into the fabric. I am checking to make sure it is still in place.”

“Why don’t you do that to the sheets so you don't need to wash them as often?”

“It makes the surface rough.” Snape waved his wand and the green glow disappeared. “Touch it now without it.”

Harry ran his hand over the surface; it was very soft and pliant under his touch. As soon as he lifted his hand, Snape waved his wand again. “Try it now.”

Harry returned his hand and found that the surface was harder than before with a slight rubbery feel. “Can you do that to clothes, too, if you wanted?”

“I always use this spell on my robes before I brew anything caustic.” Snape stepped away from the bed and floated the sheets out of the cell. He strode through the bars, closing them behind him.

“Why am I never allowed to see what’s in the laundry room?” Harry asked as he walked over to the bars and watched Snape float the sheets into the forbidden location.

“If you guess correctly, I may tell you.” Snape informed him before he stepped through the door.

Harry waited until Snape returned with the other set of linens before guessing. 

“Dangerous chemicals.”

Snape did not respond as he opened the bars.

“Loads of sharp objects.”

Snape refit the mattress silently.

Harry thought. “Poisonous plants or animals or something.”

“I will see you in the morning.” Snape strode out through the bars.

“’Night.” Harry crossed over to the sink and brushed his teeth. After he had finished his evening routine, he retrieved his new book. It was a play and looked to be as challenging as _Midsummer Night’s Dream_. He glumly stared at the lines of Latin interspersed through the text on the first page, trying to read them with unfocused eyes. He would try again later. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and replaced the book, sinking off to sleep.

 

[[ _Thanks for reading. Please review!_ ]]


	45. Chapter 45

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

_Sorry for delay! Here is the latest chapter._

Upon hearing footsteps on the stairs, Harry closed his book and slipped it beneath the mattress. Snape did not walk as heavily as whoever was approaching. Harry sat on the edge of his bed, watching the library door with butterflies building in his stomach. The door opened and a black-haired Death Eater Harry didn't recognise stepped in. "Come here," he said in a commanding voice and Harry slid off the bed and stepped over to the bars, putting his hands through them to be chained. "On your knees," the Death Eater ordered without casting the chaining spell and Harry dropped down on all fours. The bars opened and he crawled through the opening, pausing outside, his eyes on the Death Eater's feet. The heavy black boots turned and walked back through the library. Harry followed behind him at a discreet distance, feeling a bit off-hinge. Why hadn't Snape arrived to fetch him? The Death Eater trod up the stairs to the practice room where a group of four more Death Eaters were clustered in conversation. Harry sneaked glances at them, not recognising any of them, although their faces were vaguely familiar. Based on his estimate of their ages, he assumed they had graduated Hogwarts shortly after he arrived. "Is that Potter?" one asked in an eager voice. "Yeah, followed me like a dog up from the cellar," said the one who had fetched him. A heavyset one in large robes stepped over for a better look. "Why's he starkers?" "You haven't heard?" the eager-voiced one asked as he walked over to stand before Harry. His boots were scruffy, the bottom of his robes was slightly torn and covered with spatters of mud. "Snape's buggering him." "You're taking the piss. Snape's a shirt lifter?" "Nah, I bet he just does it 'cause he can't get any otherwise," one said and the rest of them laughed. He continued on, "Can you imagine someone desperate enough to fuck that ugly prick? I bet Potter's the only bit of arse he's ever had." Harry was burning with anger. He hoped Snape would return and overhear all the cack they were saying about him. Harry held himself steady and kept his face carefully blank, repressing the urge to leap to his feet and punch them all in their smug faces. One of them made a noise of disgust. "That better be it. Our parents wouldn't have let him teach us if they knew he was a fucking nonce." "Ooh…." The heavy-set one shivered theatrically. "Don't say that! You'll give me nightmares!" One of the Death Eaters walked around Harry as if evaluating him. Harry watched him as best he could with his head bowed. He had the feeling that this Death Eater was the ringleader and therefore, the most likely to attack him first. "It's a shame we aren't allowed to cast anything painful on you," the ringleader said as he walked. "But no one ever said we couldn't use other methods." He finally paused on Harry's right side, and one of the heavy boots slammed into Harry’s ribs, nearly knocking him over. Harry held himself in place and ignored the pain in his side, determined not to give the Death Eater the satisfaction of a reaction. "You're pathetic!" He kicked Harry in the ribs again, harder, knocking him off balance. Harry caught himself with his left hand, keeping his face blank as if the kicks were nothing. "Gonna defeat the Dark Lord now? You're nothing but a fuck toy to Snape." He spat the name as if it had a foul taste. Harry sat without moving. "Oi! I'm talking to you!" The Death Eater stomped over and stood in front of Harry. "Look at me when I'm talking to you!" Harry kept his eyes on the floor. He wasn't technically being disobedient, since Snape had told him to never look a Death Eater in the eyes and Snape surely had a higher rank than these wankers. He knew he’d receive pain for his defiance, but he refused to treat them with respect, not after what they had just said. The Death Eater swore and aimed another kick at Harry. Harry had to clamp down on his impulse to roll away from it, holding himself firm as the boot slammed into his nose and bones crunched against each other. Hot, blinding pain strummed through his body and it took all of his concentration to remain upright on his hands and knees. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and let the pain roll over him, momentarily unable to focus on anything but his agony. He couldn't breathe through his ruined nose and blood was streaming down the back of his throat, choking him. He opened his mouth to breathe and blood poured into his mouth, wetting his tongue. He ignored it, all of his focus devoted to keeping himself steady and not collapsing on the floor and curling up in a protective ball like he wanted. Someone kicked him hard in his left thigh and he crumbled to the floor, momentarily overcome with pain. One of them commanded, “Get up,” as if he were just being lazy. Another boot slammed into his left rib cage as the words were repeated. "Get up!" Determined not to let them see how much their blows were injuring him, Harry struggled up onto his hands and knees. He had just managed to right himself when something hard and heavy slammed into his right side and he lost control, falling back over, the wind knocked out of him. “On your knees, you little shit,” ordered the dark-haired one with a sneer. They didn't think he could do it. They were giving him orders they thought would be ignored in the hopes of punishing him for his disobedience. The knowledge of it made the struggle to his hands and knees a battle of will. He would do it, just because they were sure that he couldn't. With all of his strength, Harry pushed himself back up onto all fours. Adrenaline surged through him, masking the pain and giving him momentary elation. On his hands and knees, surrounded by enemies, he gasped and bled, the blood from his nose spattering the carpet, but he felt stronger than he'd ever felt. "Bloody hell, he's a mess," commented the heavy-set one. "Guess he's used to this by now." "We'll just have to do something else," said the ringleader. Harry heard the sound of a belt buckle being removed and he swore to himself that if they tried to force him to suck dick, he'd bite it off. The ringleader stepped forward and placed his boot over Harry's left hand. The weight of his body smashed the digits into the carpet, but the pain barely registered with Harry as he held himself stationary, refusing to lift his head. He recognised the sound of the belt flying through the air only seconds before it hit his spine between his shoulders. Vernon had belted him a few times and he took the lashes as he always did -- silent and without any sign of pain. Despite the leather biting into his skin, the blood streaming down his face, the sharp pain in his nose, the dull ache in his ribs, he felt triumphant. The line from Snape's poem, 'my head is bloody but unbowed,' repeated in his head over and over again. He wanted them to kick him so that he could get up again. He would show them that nothing they could do to him could ever break him. “Cheeky little bastard," panted the ringleader, out of breath from the whipping. He released Harry's hand, taking a step back. Another kick in the ribs sent him sprawling across the carpet. He rolled over onto his hands and knees without being prompted and forced his pain-filled limbs to obey him as he pushed himself upright yet again. The circle tightened around him and a boot stamped down on his left leg. “Get away from him.” Snape’s voice could’ve frozen hell. The Death Eaters scattered and Harry saw Snape stride across the room, a black cloud of anger. He knelt before Harry, the familiar vial of the painkiller in his hand. Harry opened his mouth and accepted several gulps of it. He knew he shouldn’t look at Snape’s eyes in front of the other Death Eaters, but when Snape gently pushed up his chin and waved his wand before Harry’s face, healing his nose and removing the blood, Harry glanced at Snape’s face to see it twisted and dark with fury, his eyes burning. It was the same look Snape wore whenever he was furious with Harry and Harry had never been so glad to see it. After healing Harry's nose, Snape released Harry's chin and shifted to examine his back. His magic flowed through Harry's back, reducing the pain to a minor ache. Snape asked in a cold, angry tone, “Where else are you injured?” “My ribs, Master,” Harry said, sitting back so to expose his chest to Snape. Snape's dark eyes scanned Harry's torso as his magic pushed into Harry's body, checking the extent of the injuries. Apparently, no ribs were broken, because Snape stood, stepping close to Harry, his leg pressed firmly against Harry's side while his robes draped over Harry as if to shield him from the Death Eaters. Harry rested in Snape's shadow as the painkiller eased the hurt of his ribs and limbs. He discretely watched the Death Eaters who were frozen like hares at the smell of a fox. “Who is responsible for this?” Snape’s voice hadn’t lost any of its anger or ice. Harry relished it, knowing Snape would punish them for hurting him. The Death Eaters all shifted uneasily instead of answering. “ _Crucio_!” Snape snarled as he cast on each of them in turn and they fell to the floor, screaming and writhing in pain. “My father-!” yelled one of them when Snape finally released them. “Your father," growled Snape, "would _Crucio_ you himself if he knew you were disobeying the Dark Lord’s direct orders. Of all-" “Disobeying? We didn’t-” a Death Eater asked, his voice shaking. “Didn’t think,” Snape said in the same tone he used when insulting Harry in the classroom. “You stupid-” “What’s happening, Severus?” Several more Death Eaters entered from the throne room. Snape stepped away from Harry toward the incoming Death Eaters. He pointed his wand back at Harry, and Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as _Muffliato_ was cast towards him. Snape turned his head to face the Death Eaters as soon as he had cast. Harry wasn’t sure why he did it. Perhaps it was because he had spent most of the day dodging Snape’s spells. Perhaps it was because Snape had turned away and he knew he’d get away with it. Whatever the reason, he ducked, pressing his head low to the floor as if he was bowing. He felt the spell pass over him, the tingle of electricity making his heart freeze as it nearly struck his right foot. However, the buzzing never filled his ears and he knew he had successfully evaded the spell. Raising his head as far as he dared, he sneaked a glance up at the Death Eaters through his fringe. “Your son hurt the slave,” Snape told a bearded Death Eater who stood beside the ringleader. “He is not to be touched before the Dark Lord arrives.” “You idiot,” the father smacked his son on the back of his head. “Do you want to be _Crucio’d_?!” “I’m sorry, dad,” the dark-haired one apologised in a voice that made him sound as if he were still at Hogwarts. “Go away,” the father commanded with a wave of his hand. . “And stay out of trouble.” The younger Death Eaters slunk off together. Snape conjured the leather leash and collar for Harry and tugged on it before leading Harry over to his favourite chair. He warned, “It is dangerous to allow him to defy the Dark Lord,” as he took his seat. Harry perched at Snape’s feet, keeping his eyes focused on the carpet. The five Death Eaters with him took their seats as well. The father sat beside Snape in a high-backed chair, waving away Snape’s concern with his hand. “If he has earned the Dark Lord’s wrath he will be punished and that will be enough to dissuade him.” “If you feel that is wise,” Snape said, his voice rife with doubt. “If I coddle him he will never be a man.,” the Death Eater said. “He killed three Mudbloods that were hiding in London last weekend.” “Very nice,” complimented Snape. “I thought they had all left the country.” “No, many of them are still around,” broke in one of the Death Eaters on the couch. “Some of them still think their saviour boy’s going to come rescue them.” “They’re fools.” Snape’s fingers carded through Harry’s hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. Harry closed his eyes and leaned against Snape’s leg, enjoying the caresses. He had had no idea petting could feel so good. “The sooner they realise the Dark Lord will never be defeated, the better off we will all be.” “That may be so for you, Severus,” spoke the deep-voiced Death Eater who had taken a chair on the opposite side of Snape. “But I enjoy the hunt. I hope this ‘resistance’ continues for some time.” “I hope to partake in more myself, Mulciber,” Snape said. “By the way, how is your son? My post is very unreliable and I’ve yet to receive a reply to the last letter I sent.” “He returned from North America this afternoon and should arrive with the Dark Lord tonight,” Mulciber said. “I look forward to seeing him.” “How goes the movement across the pond?” asked a Death Eater with a scratchy voice. “Have the Yanks and Canadians seen reason yet?” “We have several dedicated supporters, but you know Pureblood is rather rare over there.” “Yes, I’ve heard that Canada and the States are full of half-bloods and Mudbloods,” agreed another Death Eater, his voice thick with disgust. “It’s sick how they’ve allowed their lines to become tainted.” Snape’s fingers continued stroking the back of Harry’s neck without pause as if he wasn’t being insulted right to his face. Perhaps they didn’t know about Snape’s heritage. Bellatrix hadn’t known that Voldemort was a half-blood. “It’s true, I’ve been there. Dirty, noisy place,” said the gravely-voiced Death Eater. “My son has made contact with a loyal group of Purebloods who’ve kept their lines clean for generations,” Mulciber informed them. “They are more than willing to reclaim the country for the Dark Lord. He tells me several have offered to come to England to fight.” “We don’t need them,” the father said. “Don’t be so hasty, Molock,” chastised the deep-voiced Death Eater. “We may not need them to aid us in military matters, but I have two daughters who are looking for nice Pureblood lads for marriage. I’d rather not have a Yank for a son-in-law, but if it’s a Yank or a half-blood, I’ll take the Yank.” “What about Corson?” Snape asked. “Doesn’t he have a son your eldest daughter’s age?” “You know how picky Carina is,” sighed the Death Eater. “Wants only the best. Takes too much after her mother.” All the Death Eaters made noises of sympathy. Harry listened incredulously while one of the Death Eaters told a hilarious story about his wife and her fondness for buying new furniture and rearranging the house without consulting him. Unfortunately, she had unknowingly purchased end tables from two different estates which were in conflict and the pieces engaged in a brawl in the sitting room. The Death Eaters all laughed at the tale and even Harry had to swallow back a few smiles. It was strange to be reminded of the humanity of his enemies. They had all become interchangeable under their black robes to him, and now, as he heard them chatting about their families, he remembered that they had loved ones too. He didn’t like it. Killing a father, a child, a spouse, a sibling…. Murdering someone with a name and family was very different from killing a nameless individual he had never seen before. He wondered if that was why Snape used _Muffliato_ on him. He tried to tune out the rest of their conversation, only half-listening as the Death Eaters discussed the upcoming marriage of one of the scratchy-voiced Death Eater's daughters. Thankfully, it wasn’t long before Snape stood and told the others, “The Dark Lord has arrived.” Harry crawled after him as he and the Death Eaters walked into the throne room where the younger Death Eaters were waiting. The main doors swung open and Voldemort strode in, followed by several black-clad individuals. Harry pressed his head down to the floor in a bow while all the other Death Eaters in the room bowed at once. “Severus.” Voldemort’s high voice was cold. “You allowed them to start without me?” “No, my Lord,” Snape said. “The youths fetched him from his cage without my permission.” “ _Crucio_!” Harry listened with satisfaction to their screams. Wimps. He could handle Voldemort’s Cruciatus without screaming. As he listened, he saw something moving out of the corner of his eye and glanced over to see Nagini sliding across the floor. It was difficult for him to hide his delight. They had done it! Voldemort was convinced Harry was broken! Voldemort stepped away, Nagini trailing after him. Snape turned and crossed the room to an individual who walked over to greet him. Harry wanted to stay and watch Nagini, but the collar and leash forced him to follow. “Severus!” “Seth.” They clasped hands in greeting. “How have you been?” Seth asked, delight evident in his voice. “I’ve been well.” Snape began to walk back to the practice room, pulling Harry along with him. “And yourself?” “Couldn’t be better,” Seth answered with excitement. “I’ve found several supporters for Him in the States and a whole colony in Canada. It's very different than here in ways I think you will find intriguing. But more importantly, I met the most enchanting witch. She has this Southern accent I just love to listen to and she is, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. She's also madly in love with me.” Snape chuckled. “Only you, Seth. I’m surprised she didn’t return with you.” Harry crawled faster in order to hear better, intrigued by their conversation. He assumed Seth to be the son of Mulciber with whom Snape had been exchanging letters. He had never heard anyone else speak to Snape with such warmth and friendship. It was strange to learn that Snape had friends among the Death Eaters. Originally, Harry had sort of suspected that was the case, as Lucius had always seemed friendly with Snape when he visited Hogwarts for Quidditch matches. However, during his imprisonment, Snape had been very antagonistic towards all the other Death Eaters, even Lucius. “She wanted to, but her father forbade it. He’s very old-fashioned.” Mulciber said as he plucked a glass of wine off one of the salvers that were floating around and then settled into a comfortable position on the couch. Snape chose a glass for himself and took his favourite chair again. Harry returned to his spot at his feet. “I’ll be glad once the Dark Lord relaxes his restrictions and I am able to travel again. You can’t imagine what it is like to be stuck in here with unreliable owls.” “I’d prefer not to imagine,” Mulciber said. “However, you’ve earned yourself quite a prize for it.” “Yes, I have,” said Snape and Harry felt their eyes on him. “It’s the only reason I haven’t left.” “He's quite a docile thing. His father had a lot more spirit.” “So did he, originally.” Snape placed his finger under Harry’s chin and tilted up his head. Harry kept his eyes on the floor, pretending he didn’t hear a thing. “He put up quite a fight.” “You must’ve enjoyed that." Snape released Harry’s chin and trailed his fingers through Harry’s hair. Harry pressed into Snape's long fingers again, and lowered his head so that Snape could stroke the nape of his neck. “You have no idea.” “So you’ve finished training him?” “Hardly, it will be many more years before my goal is reached.” “Years? What is your goal?” “I intend to castrate him,” Snape answered in a cold voice. Harry had to struggle very hard to keep his face blank and not cup his hands protectively over his genitals. His balls felt tight as if they were trying to retreat back into his body to hide. Castration? Snape couldn’t be telling the truth. Mulciber gave a low whistle. “When you get revenge, Severus, you get revenge,” he said with awe. “Has the Dark Lord not given you permission yet?” “I am allowed," Snape nodded. "Provided I sedate him through the recovery. I’m waiting for the slave to ask for it first however.” “Ask for it?” Mulciber nearly choked on his wine. “You’re crazy. No man will ever ask for that.” “He will.” Snape’s voice was full of confidence. “You’d be amazed for what he will ask.” Snape had to be lying; putting on a show for Mulciber rather than expressing what he really believed. He knew Harry highly valued his own genitals and would never ask for them to be removed. Not to mention that, despite all appearances, he wasn't an obedient slave. If Snape tried to feed him like a dog when Voldemort wasn't around, he'd get bitten. Harry would be submissive to Snape and allow himself to be treated as a pet or an object in the throne room, but never outside of it and Snape knew that. “Have you killed the werewolf yet?” asked Mulciber. “I have been unable to hunt for him while positioned here. Maybe I will have the slave finish him off as proof of his loyalty to me.” Harry held back his shiver. Snape was so good at playing the villain; he was almost fooled by it. Snape had proven himself too adept at killing people from a distance without getting caught for Harry to believe that Professor Lupin had survived this long due to Snape’s inability to murder him. Mulciber chuckled. “I really have to hand it to you. You’re quite inventive.” “I’ve been planning since he arrived at Hogwarts with his father’s face. But enough of that, I’m curious to learn more about your trip. Does the Dark Lord intend to take control of both continents?” “I don’t ask the details. I just do as he commands,” Mulciber told him. “However, I don’t think he will be expanding his territory across the Atlantic for some time. His support over there was always rather spotty and most wizards already live in isolation from Muggles in self-sustaining colonies. You probably already know the truth about the Amish and the Hutterites, but it goes beyond that. Kansas looks boring and empty until they tell you the revelation spells and some of the cities they have in Canada are amazing. Oh, and before I forget….” He reached into his robes and retrieved a package, handing it to Snape. “More New World poisons. These are from the Eastern Provinces.” “Thank you.” Snape tucked the box in his robes. “As I said in my letter, the other specimens you sent me were greatly appreciated. The Dark Lord was most pleased by the potions I brewed for him.” “Yes, he mentioned that to me. Thank you for telling him that I had acquired the ingredients for you. You’ve been very helpful. Which reminds me….” He sat forward on the sofa. “What’s happened between you and Avery?” Snape made a noise of disgust. “Don’t tell me this is related to when he claimed credit for your kill. That was a long time ago.” “He hasn’t changed. Ever since we were children he's been claiming credit for my accomplishments. I tolerated it then for the sake of our friendship, but I will no longer allow him to take what’s mine.” “The slave belongs to the Dark Lord, not you,” Mulciber countered. “He-” “But I have been granted custody of him due to my faithful service. Avery decided that he wanted to take the slave and tried to do so in front of the Dark Lord in order to prevent me from stopping him. I defended myself, regaining the Dark Lord's favour in the process. Afterwards, he demanded access to the slave from me for no other reason than his own sense of self-entitlement. When I continued to refuse - as is my right - he conspired with others to have me removed from my post. Successfully removed,” Snape emphasized, “which endangered my work for the Dark Lord. Avery could not properly manage the slave and I returned to my post on the Dark Lord's orders. Despite the fact that his problems are nothing but the result of his own ineptitude, he informs anyone who will listen to him that I am training the slave to kill the Dark Lord. There are far too many who believe him.” Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. Snape had been friends with Avery before Avery tried to rape Harry? As he thought over what happened on that terrible day when Snape raped him, he remembered how angry Avery had been about the whole affair. He remembered how hard Avery had tried to gain control of him afterwards when the Death Eater had never shown any inclination to do so before. Had Snape really made an enemy out of one of his few friends in order to protect Harry from being raped by a sadist? Mulciber snorted. “You can’t be serious. You are the most loyal man I've ever met.” “There are few who agree with you,” Snape said, his body going tense. “Ask him yourself if you disbelieve me. The simple matter is he wants the slave because he feels, as a Pureblood, that he is more deserving of him. I’ve gone through too much hell to give up my prize. Potter is _mine_ and I will not share him nor allow anyone to take him from me,” Snape declared, his voice hard and his fingers tight on the back of Harry’s neck. The possessiveness and conviction in Snape's voice sent an unexpected thrill through Harry. Snape had lied and claimed that he hadn’t killed Hathaway for sexually abusing Harry, but there was no doubt about it now. Harry had nothing to fear from the others as long as Snape remained in Voldemort's favour, and Snape was powerful enough and clever enough to remain there indefinitely. When Snape lifted his hand to continue stroking Harry's nape, Harry leaned against his leg, nuzzling his knee. “I heard that you had turned into a queer, Severus, but-” “It isn’t anything like that,” Snape countered. “I fuck him only because of what he represents. Besides, until recently, the Dark Lord has only allowed his closest circle to visit here and I refuse to be celibate. I intend to visit our dear friend Phryne as soon as I’m able.” “I’ll go with you,” said Mulciber, relaxing back against the sofa. “I could use a good fuck.” “The Southern Belle left you disappointed?” asked Snape. “She wishes to be a virgin until marriage." Snape scoffed. "Knowing you, that won't last." "Actually, I do want to marry her,” Mulciber said, his voice soft. Snape nearly dropped his wine glass. “You aren’t serious.” “I am.” Mulciber said. "And not because of the restriction, if that is what you're imagining. Merlin, Severus, she's perfect: witty, devoted, kind- Don't give me that look." "You swore you'd die before you ever married." Mulciber chuckled. "That was a long time ago. I've grown up since then. I didn't know her then. I'm sick of being single. I want someone who I can share my life with. I swear to you, if she asked for me to never fuck another girl, I'd do it if it meant she'd stay with me." Snape gave a snort of disbelief. "If you pulled your head out of your lab for ten minutes and gave a girl a chance, you might feel the same way. We’re not getting any younger and I’d like to have children before I’m too old to properly teach my boys how to duel.” He leaned forward again and his tone of voice changed to one of pleading and concern. “Come back with me to America, Severus. The ladies there love our accents and you’d have no problem finding a nice Pureblood or even half-blood woman to marry you. Forget the past. Forget him.” He motioned to Harry. “These ghosts will always haunt you unless you let them go. Don’t waste your life on revenge.” “I appreciate your concern, but I don’t feel my life has been wasted,” Snape said, his voice cold. Mulciber threw up his hands in an expression of surrender and leaned back on the couch. “It was just a suggestion. You should at least come to harvest the plants which need to be processed immediately after plucking. In that box I put a list of specimens I wasn’t able to collect for that reason. You know how rubbish I am at potions.” “I remember." In a warmer voice, Snape added, "I wouldn’t trust anything prepared by you. Do you believe the Dark Lord will send you back?” “I have requested it and I am fairly sure he will. If he is to have any-” “Is this where you’ve been hiding the pet?” Bellatrix’s sing-songy voice was like nails on a chalkboard to Harry. “Bellatrix!” Mulciber stood and moved to greet her. Snape remained in his chair and Harry stayed in his position, his back to Bellatrix. “You will have to tell me about your trip later. It’s my turn to have fun with the pet tonight. You haven’t taught him very well, Severus,” she complained. “He should show respect to his betters.” Snape stood. “He can’t hear you. I use a spell to prevent him from overhearing our conversations.” “Why would you do that? Didn't you claim he was broken?” Bellatrix asked waspishly. “Many reasons,” Snape answered. “But most importantly, to prevent him from being used to pass information within our group or outside of it, should he ever be rescued.” “You are so paranoid.” She snatched the leash from him and tugged hard on it. Harry fell backwards, catching himself and rolling onto his hands and knees as he did so. He stared at her robes with wide eyes as if he hadn’t expected to see her there. “Come, pet, let’s have some fun with you.” She strode towards the throne room, pulling hard on the leash while Harry scrambled to keep up. He was led before the throne on which Voldemort rested. He looked around for Nagini as best he could with his head lowered, but he couldn’t see her anywhere. As soon as Voldemort’s robes entered his range of vision, he immediately bowed low to the floor. Bellatrix hadn’t been expecting it and her steps faltered as she was caught off guard when Harry stopped moving. She couldn’t yell at him or find fault for bowing to the Dark Lord, so she pretended as if she had intended to stop and he hadn’t stopped her. He kept his smile from his face. He enjoyed controlling them in such small ways, but it was risky to continue and he had already stood up to the young Death Eaters this evening. He resolved to be more obedient than ever for the rest of the night to make sure they were all convinced he had been broken. “Thank you for this gift, my Lord,” she purred, her voice filled with awe and lust. Harry inwardly rolled his eyes. She had earned this reward and yet she was acting as if Voldemort had given it to her because he favoured her. “I appreciate your efforts, Bella,” Voldemort responded with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Enjoy your reward.” “I will, my Lord.” She stepped away and removed the leash and collar with a flick of her wand. “ _Crucio_!” Harry let himself yell out in pain and writhe on the floor. He must have got used to the Cruciatus, or the painkiller was still affecting his system, because it didn’t hurt as it had in the beginning when he could barely think of anything but the pain. Either way, he was glad that Bellatrix was so boringly predictable. Voldemort entered his mind and he gave him memories of past tortures as Bellatrix kept casting on him. When she stopped casting, his body shook uncontrollably from the spell. “Come here, pet.” Her tone could almost be considered affectionate. As Harry was facing away from her, he pretended that he didn’t hear her. She hissed in agitation and strode around to stand in front of him. “Come here!” said Bellatrix as she stomped her foot and jabbed her wand towards the floor. Harry tried to crawl across the floor to her, but his limbs refused to move correctly and it took a lot of effort to move just an arm span forward. “Quicker, pet.” She flicked her wand and his cheek split open. He kept crawling forward as she flicked her wand again and again and more of his skin broke open. He finally reached her feet and pressed his forehead against the cool marble, hoping she was pacified. “We should have him serve us. It seems a waste to have a slave and not work him. _Crucio_!” Harry screamed with the pain of it. He retreated behind his walls and tried to shut out his hurt as she cast again and again. The torture sessions had never lasted very long, but now that Voldemort thought Harry was cowed, he appeared to be in no hurry to leave. Finally, Voldemort’s cold voice rang out. “That will be enough for tonight, Bella. I must be off.” “Thank you, my Lord.” She was worse than a cat in heat. Someone knelt by Harry, but he was too tired to open his eyes. A vial pressed against his lips and he drank gratefully. When the bottle left his mouth, he let his body go limp, pretending that he had already passed out. Bellatrix's heels clicked against the floor as she left, other footsteps following hers. Cool fingers pressed against Harry's neck and he knew from the touch that Snape was kneeling by him. “Oh, and Severus?” Harry felt Snape’s body tense against his own when Voldemort spoke his name. “I grow bored of these scenes of romance. He trusts you completely now, does he not?" "Yes, my Lord," answered Snape. "The training sessions have worked better than expected." "And you do have the ability to treat him cruelly without losing his trust?" "With limits, my Lord, but for the most part, yes." "Then show me degradation. Show me how much you can debase him and still have him crawl back to you.” “I will, my Lord,” Snape smoothly responded, his body relaxing. Harry felt the tendrils of Mobilicorpus lift him before he passed out. ~ He woke in the bathtub. Snape wore only a white t-shirt and black trousers. His hair was pulled back, revealing an intense concentration on his face as he rubbed a flannel over Harry’s left foot. “Are they gone?” he asked, trying to remember why he was in the bathtub. It was very familiar yet his muddled brain didn’t work. Snape frowned at him. “You have the fastest metabolism of anyone I’ve met. You shouldn’t be awake.” Oh, yeah, the Cruciatus. “I don’t want to be asleep,” Harry explained around a yawn. The water in the tub was warm and very relaxing. The flannel slowly worked up Harry’s leg. “You need to rest in order for your body to heal.” “You’ll heal me,” Harry said. “Yes, but you will not be able to train at all tomorrow unless you allow this potion to calm down your nociceptors,” Snape gently chided him. “I like training.” “I know.” “It’s my favourite thing to do.” “I’m well aware of that.” Snape’s voice was rich and warm like hot cocoa. “’Cept when I lose.” “You have only yourself to blame.” The flannel worked up Harry’s chest. “I really wanted to win that one, too,” Harry complained. Snape’s left arm stretched out in front of Harry. “Lean against my arm.” Harry leaned forward, resting his head on Snape's shoulder. Snape held him steady as he began to rub the potion into Harry’s back. Harry closed his eyes and relaxed into the embrace, breathing in the smell of Snape. “Why did Voldemort ask if I trust you?” he murmured into Snape's shoulder. The flannel stopped moving. “What did you say?” Harry reluctantly pulled his head back in order to speak more clearly. “Voldemort said that he's bored of romance and he wanted to know if I trusted you. Why did he say that?” “I’m surprised you heard him say that,” Snape said as the flannel began to move again. “I heard a lot of things.” After a pause, Snape explained, “I did not want to be cruel to you in the bedroom, but the Dark Lord would have become suspicious if I treated you kindly. I told him that I would be kind to you in order to make you more submissive.” “And now you’re going to be mean to me?” Snape gently laid Harry back down in the tub and began to work the potion into his right arm. “In the memories I show to him, I will be as cruel as is necessary.” “But not elsewhere?” “No.” “I’m not giving you head if you’re mean to me,” Harry insisted. “I don’t care what I promised.” Snape cast the Bubblehead Charm. “Go to sleep now.” He manoeuvred Harry so that the young wizard’s body was completely submerged in the milky liquid. There was no point in staying awake, so Harry fell asleep. 

[[I've noticed there is quite a difference in fics with how much abuse writers believe Harry suffered at the hands of the Dursleys. Some fics seem to view it as simple neglect, while others have large quantities of physical abuse and even some sexual. While I don't think the Dursleys were ever 'A Child Called 'It'' level-abusive, there are several indications that they were physically abusive. In HBP, it says, " _Harry ran down the stairs two at a time, coming to an abrupt halt several steps from the bottom, as long experience had taught him to remain out of arm's reach of his uncle whenever possible._ " This occurs when Dumbledore has arrived to fetch Harry. This indicates to me that if Harry is worried about Vernon's reach in front of guests, he probably had to be even more careful when company was not around.]] 


	46. Chapter 46

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

_Sorry about the delay on this. I moved to Costa Rica and my new job has kept me very busy. In addition to that, I wrote a story for the Snarry Games. Now, I will return to NoG!_

Harry sat up to find Snape on the other side of the bars, watching him.

“I have something to show you.” He beckoned with his hand for Harry to follow, and Harry slid out of bed, padding across his cell. They walked to the laundry room together and Snape paused beside the door, his fingers curled around the handle.

“You must never reveal this to anyone,” said Snape. “It must remain between us.”

“I understand.” Harry nodded.

Snape opened the door and stepped into a narrow, twisted room. To the right of them, a washer and dryer emerged out of brick walls, crammed between piles of black and red cloth. At the opposite end, a winding set of stairs led up to cellar doors. Harry fell into step with Snape as he marched up the steps, threw open the doors, and pulled Harry outside.

They stood on the edge of a vast, desolate moor. The endless rolling hills of copper, yellow, and brown swept out until they turned blue and melted into the scorched scarlet of the wide, empty sky. Harry turned around, peering in every direction. As far as he could see, the moor was devoid of any sign of human habitation. He glanced back towards the house, and spotted the dark outline of a figure standing in one of the upper windows. 

"Who's that?" he asked Snape, watching as the shadowy man raised a hand and motioned for Harry to come to him.

"Who?" asked Snape as he swept past Harry. 

"In our house." But the figure had vanished. Harry turned and followed Snape as he walked along a winding path. 

Beside them stretched out a recently tilled plot of land surrounded by a white picket fence. Instead of flowers and herbs, the garden was composed of strange white plants that looked like straggly, dead tree branches. They protruded haphazardly from the dark soil, the tapering ends of their branches reaching towards the sky like gnarled, thin fingers.

Snape led Harry through an opening in the fence. “Do you know what these are?” he asked, admiring a tree nearest to him.

“No." Harry glared at the skeletal branches.

“Mors Trees.” Snape pulled out a hose and began to water a tree. “I planted all of these for you.”

“....Are you serious? What the hell am I supposed to do with these?"

"They are beautiful, aren't they?"

Harry crossed his arms. "They’re bloody ugly." 

Snape continued watering as if he hadn't heard Harry. “They are my favourite trees. Each one requires a body to grow. Look.” He pointed to the ground and Harry spotted something gold half-buried in the dirt. He bent down and scooped the dark soil to the side to reveal a placard that read, ‘Hathaway.’ He felt something warm, wriggling between his fingers, and when he looked down, maggots were writhing in the earth. 

Harry yanked his hands away, jumping to his feet. "This isn’t what I wanted."

“I never promised you a rose garden.” Snape swept away to stand before an empty grave. Harry followed him and stood at the edge of the yawning black chasm that threatened to swallow both of them whole. Snape stepped closer to the brim, his black robes falling over the lip, disappearing into the abyss.

“Stop!" Harry yelled. "You’ll fall!” 

Snape turned to him, his sallow skin stretched translucently thin over the bones beneath his flesh. Large black pits consumed his eye sockets; deep tunnels that stretched forever. “This is for us. You and I. We'll lie here together for eternity.”

“I don’t intend to die,” Harry declared, backing away from the edge of the pit which hunted him, widening with each backwards step that he took.

Snape's thin lips stretched into a twisted smile. “We’ve killed too many to live.”

“I’ve never killed anyone!” 

Snape’s smile widened, showing his crooked teeth. “Look at your hands, Potter.”

Harry glanced down at his palms. Dark red, almost black blood pooled in the centre and seeped between his fingers.

Snape waved a black-swathed arm, motioning towards the trees. “I killed them all for you.”

“No," whispered Harry, shaking his head. "No, no, no... I-I never wanted this." He scrubbed his hands against his hips. "I didn't do this." He had to get rid of the blood. It wasn't his fault. He'd never killed anyone. He rubbed his hands over every inch of his skin and still the liquid poured, running down his wrists and dripping from his fingers. He thrust out his hands towards Snape. "You have to fix this! You're responsible! You killed them."

Snape held out his bloody palms. “You knew what I was and still you joined with me.”

“I had no choice!” Harry turned from him and tore across the moor. He ran and ran and ran, but the scenery never changed. He ran until his lungs seared with every breath and his legs gave out, sending him tumbling into the dirt; thick dust clouds rising up around him. Snape, his face human again, stepped out of the dust and bent down to offer Harry a hand dripping with blood.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared," said Snape, his dark eyes warm, and pity on his face. "I thought Gryffindors had courage.”

Harry glowered at him and pulled himself to his feet. He stood before Snape with a straight back and hands clenched into fists. “I’m not afraid to die.”

Snape’s lips split into another smile. He stepped forward, his head bending down as if to kiss Harry as he splayed his hands over Harry's chest. He paused, his lips nearly brushing Harry's own. In a low voice, he said, “You're a fool, Potter,” and pushed hard. Harry tumbled backward into the grave, watching in horror as the black outline of Snape against the blood red sky grew smaller and smaller. White roots shot out of the earth and wrapped themselves around his body, yanking him down into the earth. Harry screamed. 

“I DON’T WANT TO DIE!”

Bits of the roots broke off and pushed against his skin, scratching like skeletal fingers. 

"SNAPE! HELP ME!"

Sharp. like Lucius's poisoned needles, they pierced his skin, wiggling their way inside of him. Dirt poured around him and on top of him, burying him in the soil.

"HELP ME!"

Twigs clawed at his bones and penetrated his skull. 

"DON'T LET ME DIE!"

Snape appeared on top of him, his larger body pressing Harry’s down into the dirt. “You must die. It's only fair. You’re responsible for their deaths.”

“I didn’t want them to die!” Harry pummelled the dark shape of Snape with his fists. His hands sank harmlessly into the black cloth of Snape’s robes no matter how hard he pounded. 

He was suffocating and he opened his eyes to see Snape on top of him, his hands on his chest, pressing him into the bed. Harry's instincts kicked in and he slammed his fist into Snape’s ear. Snape grabbed his hands and pinned them against the bed.

“Calm down!” he ordered, his black eyes boring into Harry’s. 

“Get off me!” Harry jerked his hips to the right, nearly knocking Snape off the bed, as he ripped his left arm out of Snape's grasp. 

“ _Immobulus_!”

Harry fell helplessly back against the bed, his heart pounding in his chest. 

“You were having a nightmare.” Snape pressed his fingers to Harry’s throat, checking his pulse. His magic flowed through Harry, centring around his heart. “I can’t have you aggravating your injuries. I will release you now, but if you don’t calm yourself, I will sedate you. _Finite Incantatem_.”

Harry relaxed as control of his body returned to him. “Shit. You could’ve done that before I woke.”

“You’d rather wake without control of your body?” Snape asked as he left the bed and procured breakfast with a tap of his wand.

Harry imagined waking to find himself paralysed and shuddered. “Maybe not.” He tried to sit up in bed, but the simple movement made his head spin. He leaned forward, cradling his head in his hands. “I hate the morning after Cruciatus.”

“And yet you seem determined not to sleep through it,” Snape said. “Take this.”

Harry opened his eyes and lifted his head to see an open potion bottle. He took it from Snape and tipped the contents into his mouth. For medicine, it didn’t taste bad, slightly sweet in fact.

“That’s pretty good. You should make more like that.” Harry pressed the empty bottle back into Snape’s hand.

Snape floated over the breakfast tray and set it in Harry’s lap. “Valeriana is only effective on a few spells and I fear you will soon develop a tolerance to it. As I doubt Bellatrix will ever become creative, I prefer to restrict its use to after her visits.”

Harry looked over his porridge as his mind went through the previous evening. He snapped his head up and turned towards Snape who had his hand inside the small black bag he sometimes brought to heal Harry.

“I did it,” Harry said.

“Did what?” Snape shut his bag with a snap and sent it away.

“Fooled Voldemort,” Harry reminded him. “He brought Nagini with him.”

“While he has relaxed his guard around you, I feel it is a bit presumptuous of you to claim that you’ve ‘fooled’ him. A single slip-up-”

“He’s even more paranoid than you so I should continue to play my part as best I can.” Harry mimicked as he stirred walnuts into this porridge. “I’m not stupid.”

“The boys said that you were disrespectful towards them. Why did they say that?”

“They wanted me to look them in the eyes, but you said that I shouldn’t ever do that. I figured I should obey whoever has more authority.”

“Never disobey a direct order from a Death Eater,” Snape said in a voice full of authority. “If you are confused, obey and ask me for clarification later. You must always play your part-”

Harry rolled his eyes. Not another lecture about being the perfect slave. He interrupted it with, "They called you a nonce!" 

"I don't care what-"

"You don't care? They talked shit about you the entire time!"

Snape's eyebrows arched. "Their opinion is worth even less than yours. Besides, I am sure that you and your friends have said worse."

Harry sputtered. "That's not the point! I'm not a child. I'm old enough for sex. I've been old enough for a while!"

"Then act your age. What did your disobedience earn you? Nothing but their suspicions and a broken nose. Do you enjoy being hurt?"

"No. Of course not. But-"

"Always obey the Death Eaters, no matter who they are or what they say. It-"

“All right. All right.” It seemed as though he could never do anything right in Snape’s eyes. Changing the subject, he asked, “How are Ron and Hermione doing with the Horcrux search?”

“What makes you think I am in contact with them?” asked Snape as he tapped the table with his wand and a cup of tea appeared. He sat in Harry's chair and blew on the steaming liquid.

“Because it would be stupid of us to kill Nagini unless we were sure the last Horcrux is destroyed. And the quicker he's dead, the sooner we're both free of this place."

Snape calmly sipped his tea. “How do you propose I initiate contact with them?”

Harry suspected that he already had and this was similar to the situation with whatever was in the laundry room. If he guessed correctly, Snape would tell him.

After he had thought for a bit, he offered, “You change your Patronus to look like mine. I doubt most Death Eaters can cast them.”

“Have you forgot this location is under surveillance?”

“You could distract them. Cast something to attract their attention and then cast the Patronus off in the other direction.”

"You assume that one's Patronus can be changed at will."

"Tonk's changed. I know she did it unconsciously, but maybe they can also be changed if you try hard enough. Can they?"

Snape shook his head. "No, not on purpose." 

"Too bad. Your Patronus is probably something they'd never trust... like a snake."

Snape stared at him for a bit before the corners of his mouth curled upwards, “We’ve spent far too much time in each other’s company.”

Harry grinned at him around his spoonful of porridge. “Yeah, we have.” He removed the spoon. “What do you have planned for today? I don’t want to spend it in bed.”

“Until lunch I will cast at you while you are blindfolded. If you will have sufficiently regained your strength by then, you will be allowed a normal training session in the practice room.”

“Let's do another contest.”

Snape quirked an eyebrow at him. “If I had known you were so eager to perform fellatio-”

“Shut up.” Harry pointed his spoon at Snape like a wand. “You’re going down.”

“You’ve forgot who triumphed during our last encounter,” retorted Snape.

“I haven’t,” Harry said. “In fact….” he gulped down the last two spoonfuls of his porridge, “I'll do it right now.”

“Now?” Snape echoed, his eyebrow arching.

“Yeah, I wanna be able to train a full session later today.” He also wanted to give Snape head while his senses were muted from the after-effects of the Cruciatus. While he didn’t plan to swallow, he was worried Snape's cock would taste bad. He pushed the tray away and scooted away from his pillow. “Sit here.” He pointed to his pillow.

Snape stood and walked over to the bed, shoving the pillow to the side. He pushed his robes to the side and climbed on the mattress, settling himself against the back wall. He quickly unbuttoned his coat, his pale fingers flying fast over the dark fabric.

Harry turned away from him to set the tray on the floor. He felt unaccountably nervous and, for a moment, he considered telling Snape that he had changed his mind. However, it wasn’t fair to continue to accept blowjobs from Snape without giving any in return. Snape had only agreed to continue giving blowjobs on the condition that the favour would be returned, but not once had he kept his promise to Snape. 

Harry glanced over at Snape who had his hands over his groin, his dick still tucked out of sight. He watched Harry with a neutral expression on his face as though waiting for Harry to make up his mind. Snape wouldn’t force him. It wouldn’t be like with the Death Eaters. The knowledge that he could refuse to continue at any point eased Harry's nervousness and he crawled over towards Snape with renewed conviction.

“I’m not taking it out for you,” Harry said in mock agitation.

Snape undid the buttons of his trousers and shifted fabric until his cock and balls spilled out. He was half hard, the head of his penis still hidden underneath the foreskin. Harry shifted closer, lying so that their legs were parallel, and wrapped his fingers around the shaft. It pulsed at his touch, thickening eagerly in his hand. He lifted up his head, met Snape's dark eyes, and said, "You aren't showing this to him."

"Of course not," said Snape without pause. 

"He's not allowed to see any of this contest stuff."

"He won't."

Snape was far more agreeable when Harry had his dick in his hand. Harry would have to take advantage of that later, but for now, he'd do as he promised. He bent down and smelt Snape's dick, but it didn’t smell bad at all, just strongly of Snape. He flicked his tongue out and touched the side of it quickly before withdrawing his tongue back into his mouth. It didn't taste like anything really. He gave it a longer lick, but it was just the same as licking an arm. He wasn’t sure if the difference was due to poor personal habits of the Death Eater or his muted senses, but he was grateful that the smell and taste weren’t repulsive at all. He carefully pulled back the foreskin and flicked his tongue across the glans which caused Snape to harden even faster. Snape’s cock was the only part of him that was reacting. His breathing remained deep and even, and his hands rested on the mattress on either side of his thighs.

Feeling brave, Harry wrapped his hand around the base and sucked the tip into his mouth. He took Snape in until he gagged and then began to bob his head over the tip while he worked the shaft with his hand. Snape remained quiet and still although his dick hardened fully in Harry’s mouth. Harry tried to remember the suggestions from the book and shifted so that both of his hands were free. He wrapped his left one around Snape’s cock again and used his right to gently cup the testicles. He ran his tongue hard and flat over the head while he lightly rubbed with his hands and was rewarded with an intake of breath from Snape. Feeling pleased with the reaction, Harry shifted his hand so that he could rub the tip of his middle finger against the spot between Snape’s balls. He lightly rolled them between his small finger and thumb while he bobbed his head and hand over the shaft. Snape made a small noise deep in his throat and Harry felt his body stiffen. The book suggested licking the balls or putting them in your mouth, but they were hairy and Harry didn’t think he could stand to feel them on his tongue.

Harry tried out various others techniques, noting which of them drew small reactions out of Snape; a soft intake of breath, a twitch of his cock. It was interesting making Snape react, but Harry soon grew bored of giving head. His jaw and throat started to hurt and his arm became sore. He concentrated on the head of Snape’s penis, trying to bring him off quickly, but it didn’t seem to be working. He tried doing the actions which seemed to get the most reactions, but Snape still didn’t come. After several minutes of wanking Snape furiously and not feeling any closer to the end, he lifted his head and demanded, “Are you going to come or what?”

“That’s fine,” Snape said as he placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and pushed him back.

Harry wasn’t going to argue with him, so he slid off the bed and walked over to the sink to rinse out his mouth. Even though it didn’t taste bad, he didn’t want to have Snape on his tongue throughout the day. When he glanced over at the bed, he saw Snape buttoning himself back up. It didn’t seem as though he had orgasmed. Had Harry done it wrong? Snape hadn’t given him much indication either way. Harry hoped he wasn’t planning to claim that Harry needed to give him a second one, because he hadn’t come the first time. He wasn’t going to give Snape any more. 

Snape left the bed and gestured for Harry to return to it. “When you’ve finished, sit in the centre of the mattress.” His voice was as cool and calm as ever, as if he didn’t have a raging hard-on trapped within his robes. Maybe he didn’t. Harry couldn’t tell either way.

After Harry finished his morning routine, he climbed back on the bed and sat in the centre with his legs crossed.

“ _Obscuro_.” The world went black.

“We will begin with light dodging.” Snape’s voice drifted across the room. “Move as little as possible.”

“Right.” Harry nodded. When the first _Finite Incantatem_ raced towards him, he barely had to move. He held himself mostly stationary as he shifted to avoid the spells with ease. “Why weren’t we taught how to do these things at Hogwarts?” he asked.

“For the same reason most Muggle children aren’t trained in combat. Very few ever require it.”

“But I require it,” Harry countered in frustration. He turned to the side to avoid a spell. “Why didn’t he instruct me?”

“The Headmaster wished for you to experience a relatively normal childhood."

“So that I could just die at the end of it? How am I going to win unless I know how to fight him?” Harry asked, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice. He knew he was whinging, but he didn't care. If anyone deserved the right to complain, it was him. 

“I have studied magic for longer than you’ve been alive and I do not dare challenge him,” Snape said. "You have never been the best of students."

If Snape could not challenge Voldemort, then it would be unlikely that all of the training he was receiving would help him against the Dark Lord. He might be able to dodge the Death Eaters, but Voldemort was far more clever and skilled than they were. He could just set up spider webs and Harry would be caught helplessly unless he had a wand, which seemed unlikely. A while ago, Snape had admitted that his plan was ‘suicidal’. Perhaps Harry would be required to kill himself in order to defeat Voldemort. Maybe that was why Snape still hadn't told him about his plans.

"Now that Voldemort has brought Nagini with him, isn't it about time you told me the outline of your plan?" asked Harry. 

"You are still rather rash and temperamental. I-"

"Look," Harry interrupted. "It's going to take years before I ever become like you. I might never be able to do it. If you intend to wait until I'm perfect, then you'll probably be waiting forever. If you want to be free of Voldemort, then you’ll have to tell me your plan soon."

There was a pause before Snape spoke. "As I've said before, it would be stupid to develop one plan and expect the Dark Lord to conform to it, especially with unknown variables such as the Elder Wand. Some of the plans I've developed depend on its acquisition while others don't require it. I feel it would just confuse you if I were to try to explain all the possibilities I have considered. After this Saturday, our options will be narrowed."

"But how will our options be narrowed this Saturday? You don't know where the Elder Wand is, do you?"

"I intend to Master it; not physically possess it."

"But how will you know you are its Master?" Harry didn't bend his head far enough and the spell hit him, returning his vision.

Snape recast _Obscuro_. "I will never know for certain unless I manage to locate the Wand and attempt to use it; however, that isn't my concern. If Draco is the current Master of the Wand and the Dark Lord finds its location, it will be far too easy for him to gain control."

Snape didn't need to say how Voldemort would probably try to take control of the Wand from Draco; Harry already knew. He hadn't even considered how Draco's life was endangered. Did Narcissa know? Was that why Snape was so set on trying to take control of the Elder Wand from Draco? Voldemort would have had to be told about Draco's lessons and if Snape practiced disarming, then Voldemort would have no reason to go after Draco should he ever find the Elder Wand. Harry asked, "That's in... two more days, right?" 

"Yes."

He could stand two more days. Knowing that the end was near perked his spirits and hardened his resolve. Two more days was nothing. He had been in this hell nearly three months and had survived. He would beat Voldemort.

After casting for a while longer, Snape stepped over to the bed. “ _Finite Incantatem_.” Harry allowed the spell to hit him and watched while Snape pulled a small bottle from his robes. 

“Drink all of this. I’ll return with lunch.” Snape tossed the bottle to Harry and then strode out in a cloud of black. Harry uncorked the bottle and drank down the contents. It tasted like coppery milk. He rinsed his mouth with mouthwash and returned to the bed to wait for his lunch. He turned the bottle over in his fingers as he waited. It was the first time he'd been given something that could possibly be used to make a weapon since he broke the dish. He threw it at the ground as hard as he could, but it bounced harmlessly off the floor. He retrieved it and began to bounce it off a wall like a ball, throwing and catching it repeatedly.

“ _Accio bottle_!” Snape said when he returned. It flew out of Harry’s hand towards the older wizard. “You could’ve broken it.” Snape stepped over to the table to summon lunch for Harry.

Harry doubted that, but arguing was pointless, so he took his chair, pulling the ham sandwiches towards himself. 

Snape took his chair and removed a scroll from his robes. He opened it and began to read it, sipping his tea while his dark eyes scanned over the parchment.

“What’re you reading?” asked Harry.

“A letter from an associate,” Snape answered absently.

Snape had referred to whoever he had been talking to in his bedroom as an associate. Harry asked, “Is it from Narcissa?” He didn't understand what Snape saw in that stuck-up bitch.

“No.” Snape rolled up the scroll. “Draco will arrive this Saturday. I do not know which of his parents will accompany him. If his guardian chooses to remain throughout the lesson, you will have to distract them while I try to gain control of the Elder Wand. Lucius would enjoy a chance to play with you, but Narcissa doesn’t share her husband’s desires. You must find a way to occupy her time. I’d suggest-”

“Wait a minute," said Harry as he thrust his empty plate away from him. "I’m going to have to deal with Lucius alone?”

“That’s a possibility.” Snape nodded absently. “He’s not allowed to hurt you.”

“Not physically."

“If you are as controlled as you claim to be you will be fine,” Snape said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I will attempt to persuade Narcissa to accompany Draco.”

Harry couldn't believe that Snape didn't have a problem with the idea of leaving him alone with that sadistic bastard. "Attempt? You're going to do more than 'attempt'!"

"And you wonder why I refrain from telling you my plans." Snape rolled his eyes. "Really Potter, I ask for so little-"

Harry slammed his hand down on the table. "You aren't the slave here! You're not the one he's going to harass for hours!"

"I don't see why you are so _scared_." Snape sneered the word, showing off his yellow teeth. "He won't sexually molest you and he's forbidden from harming you. What's he going to do? Talk you to death? He can't hurt you unless you let him. Do you want the Dark Lord defeated or not?" 

"Of course I do. But why the hell does Draco need a babysitter? He’s an adult. Tell him to come alone.”

“Do you honestly believe this location is known to whoever takes the Dark Mark?” Snape asked in exasperation. “If fortune has favoured us, his parents won’t remain the entire time. However, we should plan for all three scenarios. If Lucius should arrive, play your part perfectly and keep him entertained."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" Harry snapped. "Do you want me to suck his cock?"

Snape pressed his lips together, his thin mouth now almost a line. His eyes darkened and narrowed and he met Harry with a look that would've made Harry glance away had he been easily intimidated. "Must I hold your hand and guide you every step of the way? If you are so incapable of dealing with a single Death Eater when he is forbidden from harming you then I will place you under the Imperius curse or remove your memory after he has left. Is that what you want?"

"No. I can do it, if I have to. It's just-" Harry leaned back in his chair, trying to collect his thoughts. He knew they needed to protect Draco and try to get mastery of the Elder Wand. It was selfish of him to place his own concerns over Draco's life. He pushed his fears to the side and, in a calmer tone, explained, "It's just I want to avoid dealing with Malfoy if I can. Can't you knock me out and tell them that you went overboard with torture the night before? Say that I still haven't recovered from Bellatrix?"

Snape shook his head. "That would be far too suspicious. Lucius has his faults, but he's not stupid. You will only have to engage him for a few hours and I will check in on you periodically to make sure he hasn’t overstepped his bounds. If Narcissa should visit, then I will send her to check on you. Distract her with conversation. As a mother with a son your age, she is full of pity for you and would probably answer any questions you had about Hogwarts.” 

Harry didn’t like the idea of being pitied for hours, but it was better than being tortured by a sadist. Either way, Snape's cool confidence eased some of his fears. If Snape checked in on him regularly, then Malfoy couldn't hurt him too much, right? He downed the rest of his pumpkin juice and dropped the cup on his plate. “Tell the Order to harass Lucius then.” 

“What makes you think I am in contact with the Order?”

“They killed Hathaway,” Harry reminded him. Snape didn’t say anything in response. Harry remembered the guessing game and offered, "You have mirrors like Sirius and my dad did. You Polyjuice into a Muggle or someone else so they never know it is you." 

"Why should they trust a random individual?" Snape asked, his tone of voice returning to normal. "Especially when Polyjuice Potion is so well-known."

"You tell them that you are a Death Eater who is using Polyjuice to remain hidden. They'd understand the need for discretion." 

"You forget that the Dark Lord only informs me of a few of his plans. If he knew about the existence of this mirror, which he surely would before long, he would set up ambushes and give each Death Eater a different location. I would be discovered."

"You tell them only some of what you know so that way Voldemort can't tie it back to you," Harry mused. "Maybe you steal memories from other Death Eaters so that you tell them things Voldemort thinks you wouldn't know."

"It is an interesting theory," said Snape, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards. "However, a spell can be used on the mirror to find its counterpart. Anything which could lead to the destruction of both parties involved as soon as one party is compromised would be incredibly foolish to use."

"You should've told me that earlier!" Harry stood. "Let’s go upstairs. I’m ready to beat you."

Snape cleared the table with a flick of his wand. "First, I will examine you." He stood and walked over to Harry. "Have your senses fully returned?" he asked as he picked up Harry's left arm and checked his pulse.

"I think so." Harry squinted at the toiletries on the sink, trying to remember how blurry they normally looked. 

"Flex," Snape ordered, as he ran his hand over Harry's upper arm. Harry bent and straightened his arm, flexing his muscles as Snape's fingers prodded it, his magic pushing into the skin and surging through Harry. After the magic had spread out from his fingers and then returned to them, he announced, "Your reflexes still feel sluggish to me. You probably won't be harmed by physical exertion; however, I always prefer to err on the side of caution. You will dodge for a bit more."

Harry really wanted to get out of his cell and run around, but he wanted to be in full form for his competition with Snape, so he nodded. "Same as before?" He retreated to his bed.

"Yes. _Obscuro_!" 

As Snape cast again, Harry focused on his training, moving only the bare minimum to dodge. Although he knew it was necessary, he couldn't help but grow bored as his dodging remained perfect. Luckily it wasn't long before Snape released him and said, “You should be healed enough to attempt to best me." With a haughty expression on his face he added, "I’ll be sure to handicap myself enough so that you even have a chance of winning."

"Don’t be so full of yourself. I’d kick your arse all over the field if we were playing Quidditch," Harry assured him as he slid off the bed and began walking backwards so that he could keep his eyes on Snape as he headed to the practice room.

"When the contest is meaningless-"

"When I have a broom-"

"I’d simply remove it and then what would you do?"

"You wouldn’t be able to hit it in the first place!"

Snape whipped out his wand and fired a spell at Harry who dodged into the practice room.

“Cheating this early?” Harry grinned. “You must know you won’t win.”

Snape sent away the furniture and summoned the balls. “The same rules as last time?”

Harry nodded. “You are only allowed to use _Immobulus_. However, no dividing line this time. We each have free reign of the room.”

“Very well.” Snape scattered the balls along the walls.

Harry edged back, keeping his eyes locked on Snape as he bent down and gathered up a few balls. Snape sent an _Immobulus_ racing towards him and he darted off. Snape had a greater advantage using spells instead of balls as weapons; however, Harry had quicker reflexes and was faster. He knew Snape would expect him to make a stupid mistake and pondered how he could use that to his advantage. Snape was too quick to be hit by a straight forward attack, but he probably wouldn’t ever put his back to Harry either. Harry gripped a ball tightly in his hand and then realised what he should do. All this time he had been treating these balls as spells, but they weren’t and there were things that he could do with them that he couldn’t do with spells.

He darted around the room, attacking with two balls at once from different angles. Snape responded quickly, dodging one while he used magic to send the other back at Harry. He didn’t bother to pace himself, pushing hard as he darted around while Snape remained relatively stationary, only moving the minimum amount necessary. Once Snape was manoeuvred into the correct position, Harry charged straight at him with two balls and tripped over his feet. One ball flew straight at Snape who deflected it lazily with a flick of his wand while the other harmlessly sailed past him to strike against the wall, bounce off, and hit Snape in the back.

“YES!” Harry punched the floor in triumph and jumped to his feet. “I DID IT! Hahaha! I fucking beat you!”

“I went easy on you, because you are still recovering,” Snape claimed as he sent the balls away and restored the furniture.

“You are such a liar.” Harry shook his head, his smile stretching his mouth wide. He knew he probably looked mental, but didn't care. The knowledge that he had outsmarted Snape was almost better than a blowjob. Almost. “You should give me my blowjob right now."

“Go take a shower,” ordered Snape, waving his hand to motion Harry back to the cellar.

Harry walked backwards away from him towards the door.

“There is no need for such paranoia,” said Snape as he watched Harry with a half-smile. “The contest is over.”

“That’s supposed to reassure me?” asked Harry as he backed down the stairs, feeling the way with his hand against the wall. “I’m keeping my eyes on you until I get my blowjob.”

“Move aside then,” Snape said impatiently, and brushed past Harry on the stairs, striding towards the bathroom. Harry hurried after him. Snape placed the muscle potion on the edge of the tub and then sat down to read. Harry jumped into the tub and turned on the shower. He felt he had impressed Snape even though he knew he’d never hear it. He had beaten one of the most powerful wizards without wand, magic, and while half-blind. He couldn’t wait to boast to his friends. Hermione would be proud of him. He wanted to suggest another contest even though he hadn’t yet received his blowjob for this one. If he could beat Snape once, he could beat him again.

He grew hard throughout the shower in anticipation of his reward and was fully erect when he stepped out of the tub. He stood on the rug, dripping wet with his cock proudly pointing upwards, and looked at Snape expectantly; his face schooled into his best Snape impression.

Snape’s eyes flickered upwards to Harry's penis and then back down again. He turned a page of his book and said in a cool voice, “Dry off and put on your potion first.”

Harry rubbed the towel over his body and scrubbed down his hair. He grabbed the muscle potion and drizzled it over his legs, rubbing it in as fast as he could. Snape got up from his chair and stepped forward to take some of the potion and massage it into Harry’s back with thorough strokes. Harry imagined those fingers on his cock and could barely focus on what he was supposed to be doing. His cock dripped profusely and he was tempted to turn around and push Snape’s head down towards his dick.

Finally, Snape stepped away from him to wash his hands in the sink. He motioned to his chair. “Sit down.”

Snape was going to kneel in front of him! Harry scrambled over towards the chair and plopped down, spreading his legs. His erection bobbed up, eager and waiting for head. It had been too long and Harry forced himself to calm down so he wouldn't waste this fantasy come true by blowing his load too early. 

Snape finished washing his hands and then knelt before Harry. With a look of resignation, he wrapped his right hand around the base of Harry’s cock, pulling down the foreskin as he did so, and lowered his head to suck the tip of Harry's penis into his warm, wet mouth.

Fuck! It was just what he wanted! Harry groaned as he resisted the temptation to thrust his hips into that wet heat. Snape began to bob his head, letting Harry's glans fuck his mouth. Harry raised his hands and clenched his fists in Snape’s hair, his dick swelling as big as it ever got. Snape lifted his head.

“Potter, remove your hands,” Snape ordered in the same cool voice he used to boss Harry around during training sessions.

Harry yanked his hands from Snape's head and gripped the sides of the seat instead, digging his fingers into the wood. Snape lowered his head again and stuck out his tongue, licking up from the base of Harry's cock to the tip in a maddeningly slow pace as if he were savouring the taste. With his eyes opened and focused on his task, Snape wore a look of intense concentration that reminded Harry of their first Occlumency lesson together. It was a highly inappropriate thought which made it all the more erotic. Never in a million years would he ever have expected to see Snape kneeling before him, licking his cock.

Snape's wandering tongue drifted lower, licking at the top of the balls; jiggling them in their soft sac. He lifted a hand to cup the balls, pressing against the skin behind them. It was nice, but Harry wanted more. He spread his legs, shifting forward to the edge of the chair to give Snape greater access. Snape took the offer, his tongue journeying lower before he sucked a ball into his mouth. It felt strange but good; especially when Snape began pumping Harry's shaft with his hand at the same time. Shit, that was fucking fantastic. Head from Snape had never felt like this before and he had to concentrate to hold back the orgasm threatening to overtake him.

Snape removed his hands and head and brushed back a stray strand of hair. He shifted as though he were about to stand up and walk away. Was Snape planning on leaving the blow-job half finished as pay-back for this morning? He better not; especially not after bringing Harry this close to coming.

Snape leaned forward again and grabbed the base of Harry's cock. He swirled his tongue around the head a few times before he sucked Harry back in, swallowing him up with a warm mouth around every inch of cock his hand didn't grasp.

“Oh fuck!” Harry lost control, his hips jerking. Snape's hands shot to Harry's thighs, holding him down on the chair, preventing him from fucking his mouth. Harry grabbed Snape's hair, his fingers curling in the soft strands.

Snape lifted his head, letting Harry’s cock fall from his mouth with a wet pop. “I will tie you down,” he growled, fixing Harry with a death glare.

“Sorry, sorry.” Harry muttered as he grabbed onto the seat of the chair again.

Snape shook his head and returned to his task with gusto, sucking Harry back into his mouth and bobbing his head. His hand wrapped around Harry's shaft again, squeezing it, and it was too good, too much, too fast.

“I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” Harry gasped, trying to push Snape away with his hands, forgetting that he wasn't supposed to touch him. Snape just bobbed his head faster and Harry squeezed his eyes shut, no longer able to hold back the orgasm rushing at him. He came with a shout, his fingers digging into the robes covering Snape's shoulders as he poured his seed into Snape's mouth. Snape swallowed it all, gently milking him dry. Harry gasped for breath and opened his eyes to stare at Snape stupidly, his mind completely blown.

Snape released Harry's cock and stood, smoothing out his robes. He quirked an eyebrow down at Harry as if to say, 'beat that'. The smug look on his face remained as he said, "Back to your cage," as if they had just finished a training session. Harry didn’t think he could move, but he somehow managed to get to his feet and stumble after Snape back to his cell. He collapsed into his chair, watching mindlessly as Snape summoned dinner for him and then left, his robes billowing behind him as he strode off.

Fuck. That was bloody fantastic! Harry hadn't thought it possible for a blowjob to get any better. And Snape had even swallowed his come! None of his classmates would ever believe him if he told them. Just imagining how Ron would take the news made Harry burst into laughter. 

After Harry had calmed down, guilt flowed through him. He thought of the blowjob he had given Snape and how bad it must’ve been. Snape hadn’t even come as far as he could tell, and yet he had still given Harry a perfect one. It wasn't fair, he really should give Snape another one; this time to completion. He wouldn’t let Snape come in his mouth, but he could finish him off with his hands. What he had done had been rather cruel – working Snape up and then walking away. If Snape had done that to him, he would’ve been outraged, but Snape hadn’t said a thing. It was only right that he give Snape head again. Besides, that arrogant prick was so full of himself. Snape thought he was better at everything. Snape wouldn't manipulate him into a dick-sucking contest, but he would show Snape he could live up to his word.

After dinner, Harry read more of _Faustus_. The more he read of the story, the more he believed Snape saw himself as the protagonist and was saying why he joined Voldemort through the story. There were many words and phrases he didn’t understand, but the general storyline wasn’t too difficult to follow, although there were parts he didn't grasp. He wondered how much of it Snape expected him to understand. 

Harry read until his eyes hurt and then returned the book to its place under the mattress.

As Harry lay in bed trying to sleep, his mind wandered to the previous evening and what he had overheard. Could he trust Snape? After nearly three months, he still was plagued by doubts; little nagging thoughts that crowded around the edges of his mind. He normally ignored them; pushing them to the very edge of his awareness, but now he roamed through them, not wanting to discount any possibilities. 

It probably all came down to whatever Snape hated more – the memory of James or being Voldemort's slave. At the beginning of his imprisonment, he would've thought Snape hated James more, but lately he had come to believe that Snape would rather help the son of his worst enemy than live a life of servitude. Snape wanted him to defeat Voldemort, that much he knew. Snape always acted as if his time were highly valuable. It didn't make any sense that he'd waste his time with the training if it wasn't supposed to be used against Voldemort and the other Death Eaters. Snape could always claim that Harry wasn't allowed out of the cellar when Voldemort wasn't around, or that it was too risky, or give some other excuse to curtail the amount of time they spent together. Snape couldn't possibly be so devoted to maintaining the illusion of partnership that he would continue the training for hours a day, every day. Sometimes he was in a right foul mood and yet he still spent hours in the training room. It would be too easy for Snape to claim that he needed to focus on his brewing or that he had a visitor. There would be no way of knowing whether Snape was telling the truth or if he was really in the library reading or wanking or whatever. 

It was possible Snape planned to kill or enslave him as soon as Voldemort was defeated, but that seemed unlikely. Snape needed him for a defence from the wizarding world which had no reason to trust the Death Eater. Without his help, Snape would probably be sent straight to Azkaban; if not killed first. Even if Snape thought that he could convince the populace of his innocence on his own, as soon as Harry defeated Voldemort, this whole master/slave farce would end. There was nothing Snape could say or do to him that would make him want to remain a slave. The idea that he'd ever agree to be anyone's slave, much less be castrated, was preposterous. Snape would never do that to him. But what was Snape going to do to hurt him?

Harry pushed those thoughts away. There was no sense in dwelling on what might happen. No doubt Snape could be unspeakably monstrous if he wished to, but despite all his threats, he had never been sadistic outside of the throne room. But why wasn't Harry told why the sex had been free of cruelty so far? Or.... had Snape somehow expected him to duck and overhear the conversations? They had spent hours training; surely it was obvious he had the ability to duck a Muffliato if it was shot from far enough away for him to react in time. Although Snape had seemed surprised he overheard what Voldemort said, but maybe he had played his part so well, even Snape had been fooled by it. Maybe he had misjudged Snape's reaction while drugged. 

If Snape had known that he ducked, or expected him to duck, then why cast it in the first place? Was it some sort of test? Was it like the times when Snape lied but made it obvious he was lying? 

Instead of answers, he had somehow gained a million more questions. Harry sighed and pulled the sheets more tightly around himself. Tomorrow he would talk to Snape about Faustus. Outside of sex, book discussions were one of those rare moments when it seemed like he was interacting with a relatively open and honest Snape. Perhaps then he'd gain some answers to the questions that plagued him. But now he needed to sleep.

 

[[I was a big fan of the Batman Animated Series growing up (I loved it when Robin would get captured and Batman would have to go save him) and watched every episode. In one of the episodes, Batman correctly deduces that he’s in a dream because he can’t read. I thought it was true, at the time, but I’ve since had many dreams where I read or write words that show up very clear and legible to me. I had this dream in which I read a book on Mexican constructs of homosexuality that used Harry Potter fanfiction as examples to explain the authors points and the dream consisted of me turning the pages of the book and reading the words. I’ve asked several people about this and it seems to be fairly common, so I left it in here. Similarly, I've always been able to feel pain in dreams (although some people claim you can't) and.... let's just say that not all of these elements are products of Harry's imagination :) ]]


	47. Chapter 47

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

_I'm in the Snarry Games! Please go read my story: http://asylums.insanejournal.com/snarry_games/252197.html and vote! Also, read the other wonderful stories and vote._

Harry dreamt he was at Hogwarts, trying to find a classroom to take an important examination for which he wasn't prepared. He ran through the empty halls, his footsteps echoing off the bare walls as he checked each room for signs of life. Where was everyone? Even the portraits had vanished and the hallways were dim and dusty as if they hadn't been swept in years. 

As he jogged down an empty, dark hallway, he spotted light pouring out from a small crack in a wall. As he stepped closer, he could see that the crack outlined the faint edge of a door where someone had tried to seal it off, plastering over the surface. Cracks in the plaster revealed bits of the door's edges; bright light was seeping from the largest, deepest one.

Harry tore at the plaster, uncovering the small door. The plaster crumbled easily in his hands, turning to dust and littering the floor. He felt around for a doorknob, but there wasn't one to be found, and he focused on revealing the surface instead. When he had thrust all the plaster away, the candles flared, brightening the dark hallway, and revealing runes etched into the stone door. They sprawled across the surface, twisting in strange designs he'd never seen before. He traced the shape of one with a finger before placing his other fingers against the stone and exploring the odd etchings. They felt strangely familiar, like a memory that he couldn't quite reach trying to break through the surface. The runes welcomed his touch, pulsing back against his hand, pouring energy into his fingers as he explored their shapes. 

He laid his palm on the door and said, " _Alohomora_ ," thrusting his magic into it. The door trembled, the foundations giving off a soft sigh as if it were a living creature. More pin-pricks of light appeared around the edges. 

Encouraged, he raised his other hand to the door and placed it beside the first one, digging his fingertips into the runes. " _Fragmentus_!" The floor shook and dust tumbled down around his head and shoulders. The walls surrounding the door shivered and shifted inwards, trying to cover up the door, but he needed to see what was behind it. He flattened his hands even more against the door to establish more contact. Pressing his palms hard against the stone he yelled again, " _Fragmentus_!" 

The entire castle shook and he tumbled to his knees. New stones appeared in the walls and floor, stretching the hallway and pushing the door further away from him. He crawled on his hands and knees towards the door, determined to open it and see what lay beyond. Suddenly, he sensed a spell racing towards him, and he dove to the side to dodge it...

... and tumbled off the bed, landing in a messy heap on the floor. "Shit!"

“Have you hurt yourself?” Snape asked as he stepped through the bars.

Harry shook off his sleepiness and disentangled himself from the blankets. “I’m fine.” He jumped to his feet and darted to the other end of the cell, keeping his eyes on Snape all the while, waiting for any sudden movement. Instead, Snape simply spelled breakfast on the table before tucking his wand back into his robes. He sat down in his chair and picked up his mug, his back towards Harry.

Harry narrowed his eyes in distrust. He crouched close to the floor and inched towards his chair, never taking his eyes from Snape as he slinked towards the table. Snape ignored him, sipping his tea and staring at Harry's empty seat.

His back up against the bed, Harry stood and stepped over to the table. When he glanced down to look at his breakfast, Snape whipped out his wand and shot out a spell. Again dodging before he had a chance to think, Harry dove to the side. 

“You bastard!" he shouted as he righted himself and stood expectantly, waiting for another attack. 

Snape smirked, and his wand disappeared into folds of black."Eat."

"Are you finished shooting spells at me?" Harry slid into his chair and picked up a sausage, not lifting his eyes from the spot where Snape's wand had vanished.

"Would you believe me if I said 'yes'?" asked Snape with a raised eyebrow.

He didn't have to think about that either. "No."

"There may be hope for you yet."

Harry gulped down his food while watching Snape closely the entire time. It was rather difficult to eat like that, and he stabbed himself in the face with his spoon a few times.

Snape watched Harry eat with a stony expression on his face. When Harry stabbed his cheek for the third time, Snape said, "I didn't think your table manners could deteriorate any further. Do you always intend to eat so haphazardly?"

Harry finished his mouthful of food before replying, "When I'm eating with you, of course I do!" 

"Don't be so obvious in your surveillance."

"You know I'm watching you, don't you?"

Snape agreed with his eyebrows and took another sip of his tea.

After Harry had successfully eaten his breakfast without poking himself in the face again, he leaned back in his chair and said, "I've been reading _Faustus_." 

Snape sipped his tea and then asked with a sneer, "Did you understand it or will you need the children's version?" 

"Of course not." Harry waved his hand, dismissing Snape's insult. "It's not that hard. Although-" He picked his words carefully, determined not to insult Snape if he interpreted the story correctly. "Faustus is said to be really intelligent. However, he makes a pact with the devil knowing full well it's the devil he's dealing with. If he knew that, then why did he make the pact?" 

Snape's expression did not change, his black eyes meeting Harry's without apparent emotion. "The story of Faustus is based on a German legend of which there are many versions. My personal preferences lean towards Goethe's, although I felt it unlikely that you would be able to comprehend that work."

What the hell. He wasn't even reading the right version? Why did Snape have to make everything so difficult? "I know I can understand it."

"Once you finish this version, I will give you the other," Snape said. "There are many reasons offered for why Faustus sold his soul—hubris, the belief that he was already damned; a desire to push knowledge, science, and magic beyond their current limits.... Although in some renditions, Faustus expresses a desire to use his new-found power and intellect for the benefit of his society, ultimately he entered into the deal with the devil solely for his own ambitions."

Snape joined the Death Eaters only to further his own interests? Harry sucked in a breath, suddenly winded as if he had been punched in the gut. He ached with a pain he couldn't quite explain. He always knew Snape was a selfish bastard, but he had not expected him to be so self-absorbed. He'd expected Snape to blame his mistake on the blind hatred of the father who abused him, a past lover who spurned him, or on his desire to payback the Marauders. Revenge made sense. Harry had wanted revenge himself and sometimes, when they tortured him, he fantasised about obliterating them all with Dark Magic; committing horrific acts which faded from his mind once they left him alone. Even the Pureblood bullshit made more sense. At least the fanatics believed that what they were doing would benefit the wizarding world—even if it came at the expense of others. Anything else was better than cold, heartless ambition.

Harry cleaned his plate and pushed back his chair. He didn't bother to hide his disdain as he crossed the room to the sink. "He’d have to be stupid to think that giving his soul to the devil is going to help people." 

"I have no doubt that you would agree to a deal with the devil provided that the right circumstances presented themselves," Snape argued.

Harry whirled to face him. "I'd never. Even if Voldemort swore to me that he wouldn't hurt any of my friends ever again and that he'd live in peace with the Muggles, I'd never, ever bargain with him. He'd destroy me, my friends, everything as soon as he thought it would help him." Meeting Snape's eyes, anger flaring inside his chest like a wildfire, Harry clenched his fists and said, "You'd have to be heartless or stupid not to realise he's like that."

Snape opened his mouth to speak, but Harry ploughed on. "Look at everyone he's killed! Look at how he treats you! How could you possibly believe someone like that could help you? Maybe he would, as long as you did everything exactly the way he wanted, but you'd be a slave to some cowardly murderer and for what? Knowledge? Are people's lives worth knowing more stupid facts? Power? He'll never let you become more powerful than he is! What's the point? Ambitions? Maybe if your ambition is to spend the rest of your life as a fucking slave!" His hands shaking, his heart trying to jump out of his chest, Harry turned away from Snape. He bent over the sink, splashing cold water on his face to try to calm himself down. 

When Snape spoke, he used an even tone as if Harry hadn't yelled at him. "Suppose there was a devil who offered to help you kill the Dark Lord and the other Death Eaters. This being would promise to keep your loved ones alive and minimise the risks of the battle so that only your enemies would be killed. All that you would have to do is sacrifice yourself. Would you give over your soul in exchange for the defeat of the Dark Lord and the protection of those you care about?" 

"It's a devil. You can't trust them. They always cheat." Harry grabbed the toothpaste and twisted off the lid. He squeezed out a generous amount, a bit too firmly, and overshot the bristles, and toothpaste completely covered the top part of his brush. He shoved the whole thing into his mouth.

"And if it were possible to make an Unbreakable Vow with a devil so that you knew for a fact that the deal would pass exactly as was intended?" Snape pressed, obviously determined to hear Harry's agreement. "If you forced him, by an inescapable contract, to never harm you or your loved ones as long as you obeyed him?"

Harry shook his head vigorously, his mouth full of toothpaste.

"Why not?" asked Snape. "You would only have to give up your soul for the protection of the entire world. Wouldn't it be selfish to refuse? Don't you wish to be rid of the Dark Lord and end this war?"

Harry spit out the toothpaste and said, “The only way I would ever do that is if I absolutely knew for sure that he couldn't hurt anyone but me. But it’s different, because I’m doing it to help others while Faustus only gave a shit about himself.”

“’The road to hell is paved with good intentions,’” quoted Snape as he cleared away their dishes.

“You don’t think I should?” asked Harry.

Snape shrugged. “I didn’t say you shouldn’t.”

Harry hated these stupid games. Why couldn't Snape just be straightforward like a normal person? “You certainly implied it. If you were me, what would you do?”

“I would not blindly throw my life away for the sake of the wizarding world.”

“And what am I supposed to do?” Harry asked testily. He wasn't blindly throwing his life away if it meant Voldemort's defeat. “Just let everyone I love die? Let Voldemort come and kill me? He won’t rest until one of us is dead. You know that.”

“You throw yourself on the sacrificial altar easily, but I wonder how much of your bravado is real.”

“What do you mean?” Harry frowned at him.

Snape rose from his chair and swept over, his black eyes fixed on Harry's. For such a thin man, he wouldn't be nearly half as intimidating as he was without the flowing robes, those predatory eyes, and that deep, dark voice. When he spoke, his words were measured. “As I’ve said, I’ve developed many plans. One of which involves the use of the potion I’ve been brewing for the Dark Lord. I’ve not found a way to surely remove the soul, but I have found a way to kill an individual whilst retaining the bodily processes so that the corpse has the appearance of life. I will feed this potion to you, and inform the Dark Lord that I have successfully removed your soul. I will leave this place, hunt for the Elder Wand, and destroy the rest of the Horcruxes. With the Wand and the help of the Order, I will attack the Dark Lord and force him to possess your body. He would be trapped in your corpse and destroyed with minimal effort. Will you agree to this plan?”

Harry’s stomach clenched and his mouth went dry. He had been prepared to die if necessary, but to hear the plan discussed so clinically as if Snape were reciting the training schedule for the day sent shivers down his spine. His heart pounded with fear, but he knew that he must, if it were the only way. Neither he nor Voldemort would ever rest until one of them had been killed. If this is what it came down to, then so be it. He could not live knowing that others died for his life. He whispered, “Yes.”

“Why delay? It will be considerably easier to procure the Elder Wand if I am free of this place.” Snape strode off, his black robes billowing behind him.

Harry stared after him in confusion, his head spinning. They were doing it right now? He was going to die already? He wanted to call Snape back, but he felt frozen, unable to move his body at all. Snape must be having him on. What if Draco didn’t have possession of the Elder Wand? What if Snape couldn't find the Diadem? Could they even be sure the Horcrux was hidden in the Diadem? It was far too risky. This had to be some sort of test. There was no way Snape was going to kill him now, just like that.

Snape stormed back into the room with a small black bottle clutched in his outstretched right hand. He advanced on Harry, who backed up into the wall. 

“If you desire to be rid of the Dark Lord, then drink this,” Snape ordered, his eyes dark and glittering.

“Wait- Don’t-” Harry tried to gather his wits, his mind casting wildly about for anything to delay what was going to happen. “Don’t you need control of the Elder Wand first?”

“It would make my life easier, but it’s not necessary." Snape waved his hand dismissively. "Besides, it will probably be more efficient for me to try to gain control of the Elder Wand if I am free to move as I please.” He uncorked the bottle and pushed the foul-smelling potion under Harry’s nose. “Don't you want the Dark Lord destroyed?”

“I think you should have the Elder Wand first!” Harry argued. This was insane. “What about the rest of the Horcruxes? If you mess this up, he’ll never die!”

“I won’t fail,” Snape said, his eyes matching the conviction in his voice. “You told me you were ready to fight and die. Have you changed your mind? Were those words nothing but bravado just as I knew they would be?”

Surely Snape had more cards up his sleeves than this reckless, suicidal plan. “Isn’t there some other way?” Harry asked as he searched Snape's face for any hint of humour.

“This is the only way if we are to be absolutely certain of his death. You know the prophecy. You know what must be done,” Snape said, watching Harry, his face as expressionless as a Death Eater mask.

"It said one of us had to kill the other, not that I have to die!"

Snape's eyebrows drew in towards each other. "Did I say that? You must defeat him, and this way, we will know for certain that he will die. There is no way he can escape from a dead body. He will be trapped and easy to murder."

“No, no.” Harry shook his head. This was the worst plan he'd ever heard. It would never work. “There must be some other way.”

“Only if you wish to remain in this prison for weeks while more of your friends die pointless, needless deaths.” Snape's mouth twisted into a sneer. A hand shot out, catching Harry's upper arm and pinning it against the wall. He closed the distance between them, his larger body pressing down on Harry’s. In a bitter, sarcastic voice he said, "Drink up, Potter. It's time for you to save the world." 

Harry remembered his dream of death and the fear that had surged through him then overwhelmed him now. He shoved Snape away from him as far as he could. “NO!” Escaping, he scurried over to his bed where he pressed himself flat against the wall on the opposite side, staring at Snape who had made no move to stop his escape.

Snape smiled at him. The same dead smile from his dreams. “Do you want all your friends to die? To be hunted and tortured while you remain here and do absolutely nothing to protect them?”

“No! I'm going to fight!”

Snape chuckled. "Don't you love Ginevra? Do you know what Lucius would do to her?"

"Don't you fucking dare," warned Harry.

Snape ignored him. "He loves to torture Blood Traitors. If she is lucky, she will only be raped-"

"SHUT UP!" Harry slashed his hand. If he had a wand, he'd hex the bastard.

Snape took two steps toward the bed, his voice lowered to a rumble. "Each day you wait she is ever more in danger."

"I know that!" He couldn't let her be hurt because of him. He couldn't lose her. The thought of it filled his gut with ice.

"Then be a man!" sneered Snape, showing his crooked, yellow teeth. "Face your destiny!" 

Harry jumped to his feet. “You said you had tons of plans! They can’t all involve me dying!”

"Are you afraid of death, Potter?" asked Snape, his face smug as he folded his arms across his chest. "Where's your Gryffindor courage now?"

"Oh, come on! Can't you think of something better? There has to be-"

Snape unfolded his arms and leaned menacingly towards Harry, his eyes squinted and his lips in a sneer. “You’re weak! A coward! Just like your father!”

“I’M NOT WEAK!” yelled Harry, slamming his fists against the wall.

"Then prove it! This is the only sure way to destroy him!" Snape advanced with methodical steps. “You begged me for this information, Potter. Do you see why I withheld it? Because all your words are nothing but empty promises. Because, when it comes down to it, you can't kill yourself to save your friends.”

His breath catching in his throat, Harry insisted in a low chant, "I can. I can."

"Then do it."

"I just thought- I thought-" He thought that Snape would be able to save him. He thought that with Snape helping him, death was a possibility but not a necessity. Was there really no other way? It had been so easy to resign himself to death before, but now that he was forced to face it, terror surged through him. He didn't want to die. He wanted Voldemort destroyed, but he didn't want to die. Not like this. If he was to die, why couldn't he go out fighting? Why poison? He collapsed on the bed, dropping to his knees. 

"Did you think you wouldn’t have to live up to your words?" Snape asked in a low voice. "You speak of death so lightly, Potter, but in the end, you lack the courage.”

No. He would do it. This was what he had to do. He had to rid the world of Voldemort. If he didn't, thousands would die. Ginny would die; Ron and Hermione, too. They stood no chance against Voldemort and he had to destroy him. He had to save them.

"Typical Gryffindor. You-"

Harry snapped up his head. "I’ll do it! I’ll take the potion!"

Snape shook his head and re-corked the bottle. "I knew you weren’t ready for this yet. We’ll wait. We’ll wait until you’re ready or better opportunities present themselves. It shouldn't take too long, a few weeks at the most."

He couldn’t wait. The longer he hesitated, the more people would die and the greater the danger to his friends. With each passing hour, the world slipped more and more under Voldemort's control. He’d die if he stayed here—trapped and forever waiting for a better option that may never be found. Already he knew that parts of himself were being stripped away; choices taken from him and tortures committed which he would never be able to forget. To be without his friends, alone and captive in this prison, it was as if he were forever treading water, drowning in loneliness. He held on for now, but he could feel his grip slipping and he didn't know how much longer he could survive. If his choices were death or eternal enslavement, he’d choose death; even by poison. He took a deep breath and asked, "You’re sure? You’re sure you can kill him?"

"Yes." Snape nodded gravely, his black eyes unwavering. "We know his soul will flee the destruction of his body and that he plans to possess yours. He will be destroyed, I swear to you."

"Give it to me," Harry rasped out. All his life he had been preparing for this moment. He couldn’t back out now. This was what he really wanted—Voldemort destroyed even at the expense of his own life. It all came down to, as Dumbledore would say, the choice between what was right and what was easy. To give up now would be to admit defeat to the dark forces in the world. He was stronger than they were and he would take them down any way he could; no matter the consequences. Thousands—millions—of people depended on him and he wouldn't let them down. "I’m ready. I’ll take it."

"No." Snape shook his head. "We'll find another way."

"Give it to me!" 

"I know you don't want to do this, Potter." Snape shook his head, his dark hair falling over his shoulders. 

"I do. I can." Harry shot to the edge of the bed and held out his hand. "Give it to me." 

"No." Snape pressed the potion into the folds of his clothing.

"I'm ready," he assured Snape. "I want this, okay? It's what I want to do. Please, let me drink it."

Snape's eyes, dark in his pale face, never left Harry’s as he stepped forward, retrieved the potion, and pressed it into Harry’s trembling hand. He held onto it even after Harry wrapped his fingers around it as if he were afraid to let it go and allow Harry to drink. A shadow passed over his face and it seemed as though he had changed his mind, but then he abruptly tore his fingers away and took a step back. 

Harry stared at the small vial, trying to wrap his mind around what he was about to do. Shit. Was this really the end? The Death Eaters had been right—he was just a child. There were so many things he'd never done and now would never have the chance to do. He couldn’t believe he’d never see Ron and Hermione again. Never tell Ginny he loved her. “Let me- Let me write a note.”

“No. You must play your part until the very end.”

“Please,” Harry begged. “Please, I need to tell them I love them.” 

Snape's eyes narrowed to slits, his face as cold as the mask he wore in the throne room. “Just drink the potion, you stupid boy.”

With shaking hands, Harry yanked out the cork, threw back his head, and poured the potion into his throat. The smell of sulphur overwhelmed him and his hand shook so hard, he splashed some of the thick, cold potion over his throat and chest. Gagging, trying to keep the potion down, he threw the empty bottle to the side and stared at Snape, his whole body struck with the horror of what he had just done. Almost immediately, a small spot of cold erupted in the pit of his stomach as if he had swallowed an ice cube. The arctic coil slowly unfolded, the bitter chill seeping outwards. This was it. He was dying now. Harry swayed, but caught himself. Despite all his fears, despite the terror of the end, relief flooded through him at the knowledge that it would all be over soon. He was safe now; no one could hurt him ever again. He had loved ones waiting for him. Pushing himself back up onto his knees, he grinned at Snape.

"I can't wait to see Sirius." 

It wasn't painful; just cold. A tendril of ice wove down through his abdomen and he doubled at the shock of the iciness, nearly falling off the bed. Snape swept over and grabbed him, pushing him back up onto the bed. Harry buried his hands in Snape’s robes and tilted his head back to see Snape's sallow face. The line between Snape's eyebrows was dark and he gazed down at Harry with eyes filled with something akin to regret.

Harry couldn't resist needling him. "I bet you've dreamed of this since you first saw me, huh?" 

Emotions warred in Snape's eyes, but he steadily wrapped his arms around Harry and held him tightly as if his arms could anchor Harry to life. "I don't want this." He bent his head and whispered. "Tell me. Tell me you don't want this."

"I don't," said Harry. "I will. If I have to. But I don't want to." He shuddered as the ice seeped into his lungs and flowed towards his heart. He knew that it was hopeless to protest against what had already come to pass, but still some small part of him refused to believe that this was the end. Any minute now, Snape would save him. Snape would tell him that he had just thought up a better plan; one which would enable Harry to destroy Voldemort without giving up his life. He leaned forward and pressed his face into Snape’s robes. There was so much he wanted to say and do, but the words died on his tongue; somehow meaningless now. He clung to life and to Snape as he froze from the inside out.

"You don't want to die?" asked Snape, his voice low.

"No." 

Snape stroked a hand down Harry's back. He bent down his head and whispered, “And you won't. I won't let you.” 

"I won't?" It didn't make any sense, not with the ice now seeping out into his limbs. But he was still somehow alive, wasn't he? Even though he felt cold all over.

"You won't die. The potion I gave you was simply a cooling potion with a harmless addition to make it taste foul.”

Harry’s entire body went limp and for a moment he could do nothing but lean helplessly against Snape while relief poured through him. He was alive. Alive. Alive. He breathed deeply, never having enjoyed the sensation of air flowing through his lungs as he did now. His heart pounded furiously in his chest, beating hard as if it were fighting against the cold to restore him to life. His blood flowed hot and thick through his veins and, even though the cooling potion hadn’t left him, he had never felt so warm. He could feel every pore in his skin, every hair on his head, every single internal organ. He had never given much thought to his body and now he marvelled at its intricacies.

Suddenly the realisation of what just happened slammed into him and he pulled himself violently out of Snape’s arms, falling back against the bed. Anger erupted inside of him and he swung a fist at Snape who smoothly dodged away, stepping out of Harry’s reach.

“How could you?” Harry whispered hatefully, glaring up at the dark eyes which watched him without apparent emotion. If he hadn’t been so exhausted by the ordeal, he would’ve leapt out of the bed and chased the bastard down. Fuck.

“It is one thing to speak of self-sacrifice. It is another thing to carry it out,” Snape said evenly.

Harry pressed his hands over his chest, feeling his heart beating wildly and the rise and fall of his chest with every intake and exhalation of breath. For a moment he wondered if he had died and if this was all a dream, but he felt more alive than he ever had before. It was as if some sort of barrier between himself and the world had been stripped away and as if, for the first time in his life, he was truly living. “I thought I was dying!”

“That was the intention,” said Snape with amusement in his voice.

“You fucking bastard,” Harry hissed at him. He closed his eyes and rested against the sheets, concentrating on the pounding beat of his heart. The only other time he had been this keenly aware of his senses had been on the drug.

“I have developed such a potion,” Snape’s voice was deeper this time and Harry opened his eyes to look at him again.

“Do you expect to use it?” he asked as evenly as he could manage.

“It is a last resort."

Harry nodded, understanding what this test had been about. He pushed his anger to the side, determined to prove his high level of maturity to Snape. “You don’t have to worry, I won’t fail you. You know I will do whatever is necessary.”

“As will I,” Snape Summoned the bottle to himself and tucked it into his robes. “You may spend the rest of the day in bed if you so desire, but I have more important things to do.”

“I want to train.” Harry slid off the bed. He strode towards Snape and said, “I understand what you were trying to do, but there’s no need to test me that way anymore. I haven’t come this far to change my mind at the last second. Besides, you said that you probably wouldn’t live through this. If you aren’t willing to die, then why are you helping me?”

“The difference between us, Potter,” Snape explained as he led Harry to the practice room, “is that I am unwilling to sacrifice myself for the benefit of the wizarding world. If I remain in the Dark Lord’s service, it is likely that I will eventually die or end up in Azkaban no matter how skilfully I play my hand. For me, it is a personal matter of freedom and survival.” 

Harry tried to focus on his dodging, but it was difficult to do, his mind kept wandering back to Faustus's and Snape's similarities. Snape claimed that he joined and now wanted to leave the Death Eaters solely because it suited his own ambitions, but Harry had trouble believing that was entirely true. From the way Snape spoke with Mulciber about Avery, it sounded as if the three of them had been friends for some time, maybe even before Snape joined the Death Eaters. With fathers who were high in Voldemort's command, Mulciber and Avery would have been expected to join the ranks as well, just as Draco had been compelled to do. Had Snape tagged along, because he was treated with respect, or at least not humiliated? If Snape was friends with Mulciber, when the time came, he'd have to convince Mulciber to abandon Voldemort or fight him, maybe even kill him. Harry hadn't even considered the fact that Snape might have to kill people he cared about in order to have Voldemort destroyed. 

Why did Snape become a Death Eater? There had to be more to it than just blind ambition; he refused to believe Snape was that heartless and self-centred. If the Marauders hadn’t picked on him, would he have taken the Mark? Voldemort would’ve never heard about the prophecy and then what would have happened? Harry supposed there was no point in playing ‘what if.’ Even if he had a time turner, he didn’t know what time he should go back to in order to prevent the present from happening. He could go back and stop Snape from overhearing the prophecy and then what? Voldemort might just increase his power and kill Harry’s parents anyway. He could kill Voldemort, but then his parents might’ve never fallen in love while working with the Order and he would've never been born. As much as Harry despised his life sometimes, he had no desire to be blinked out of existence. His parents had died for him to live and their sacrifice could be in vain if he tried to change the past. It was better to focus on the present. He could influence the future.

Harry threw himself into dodging and exhausted himself earlier than usual.

“Can we stop for lunch now?” He paused, ignoring the balls that hit him as he panted for breath.

“May,” said Snape as he sent the balls away. He chained Harry to the floor and left.

Harry lay against the carpet, trying to catch his breath as he waited for Snape to return. When Snape floated the food tray down to him, he gulped his milk and bit into his tuna and grilled cheese sandwiches with relish. He was halfway through the first one when a thought occurred to him and he bolted upright.

“Portraits!” Harry announced to Snape.

Snape arched his eyebrow at Harry. “What are you babbling about?”

“You can’t torture a portrait, can you?” Harry asked. “Or give it Veritaserum or use any form of magic to make it tell you its secrets, right?”

“Apart from the threat of destruction, nothing magical can compel a portrait to speak,” Snape confirmed.

“That’s how you communicate with Hermione and Ron,” Harry guessed excitedly. “They have Phineas Black’s portrait and you took the other from the Headmaster’s office. You could tell Phineas Black not to reveal who he’s working for and I bet he’d keep your secret.”

“And if I didn’t trust him with such an important secret?” asked Snape.

Harry thought. “Maybe you’d turn into a Muggle so he wouldn’t know he was working for you.”

“How would I hide the portrait?”

That was the hard part. “You know more magic, so maybe you know a spell I don’t. Or maybe you hang it up next to a portrait that has a lot of people and one or two of them always hangs out in his frame so that it doesn’t look empty.”

Snape silently ate his sandwich.

“Come on,” Harry said. “Give me a clue!”

Snape placed his sandwich on the plate and smirked at Harry. “In both of these scenarios, you assume the most beneficial person for me to Polyjuice into would be a random Muggle. Who else could I Polyjuice into that would be of benefit?”

Harry frowned as he thought. After several minutes, he finally offered, “Another Death Eater? But if you did that, they would hesitate to kill that person in battle.”

“Who else?” prompted Snape.

"An Order member," guessed Harry, unable to think of anything else. "But that doesn’t make sense, because you would have to hold that person hostage, but you can’t be taking care of two prisoners. And Voldemort would notice the second prisoner." He frowned. "Unless you killed someone from the Order. But you would've had to learn all of the code answers to the questions they'd ask that person before you killed them and that would be impossible. They change the code questions randomly so you’d have no way of knowing what would be asked." 

“There are those challenges,” said Snape as he picked up his mug and sipped from it.

Harry sighed. He still hadn’t guessed correctly. He really needed Ron and Hermione to help him with this game. He was rubbish at it.

“Let’s have another contest,” Harry suggested as Snape cleared the dishes. That was one thing at which he wasn’t rubbish.

“Same rules?” asked Snape as he began to clear the furniture.

“Bring back the furniture. In fact, bring more.”

Snape scattered the furniture throughout the room and Summoned the balls to rest around the edges.

“Remember, only _Immobulus_. You can’t remove the furniture, that’s cheating."

“I don’t need to cheat to win, Potter,” Snape argued as he began his attack.

Harry darted away to gather up some weapons. “I don’t either!”

“I’ll believe it when I see it," said Snape with a smirk Harry could hear even though he couldn't see.

“The only times you didn’t cheat were when I cheated first. Admit it; you’d cheat if you knew you could get away with it. You’re probably cheating right now.” Harry emptied his armful at Snape while he rolled out of the way of Snape’s spells. He paused to hide behind a cabinet. Even though he didn’t intend to win this round, he wanted to give Snape one hell of a fight.

“If I were cheating, I’d have already won."

Harry decided to try and tackle him. It would be much harder than trying to hit him with a ball, but if he did win, it would be a very satisfying victory. He crept behind a sofa, trying to get into a good position from which to launch his attack.

“Stop hiding, Potter. I promise I’ll be gentle,” Snape purred in a very creepy voice.

Harry waited until he heard Snape's soft footsteps approaching before he darted out towards Snape. Snape whirled around and rapidly cast at Harry. Harry realised he wouldn’t be able to tackle Snape this round, so he threw his projectiles and then dove backwards over a recliner.

“I would tell you to use your brains instead of your body, but you are lacking in both.” Snape flushed Harry out from behind the recliner with a quick round of spells.

"I may not be the smartest wizard, but I’m not the ugliest either,” Harry retorted.

"If I had to choose between brains and beauty, I’d select intelligence without a second thought."

"I noticed." Harry half expected Snape to get offended, but the older wizard chuckled instead.

“We may make a Slytherin out of you yet.”

“Ugh. Don’t make threats like that.” Harry bolted out from behind a bookcase. He leapt as soon as Snape cast a spell at him. He grabbed Snape’s shoulders just before the Potions Master quickly cast another spell that hit him square in the chest, and his body went limp. He fell forward onto Snape who stumbled backwards, but managed to hold himself upright, catching Harry in his arms as he did so.

“ _Finite Incantatem_.” Snape righted Harry who scowled as soon as he regained control over his body.

“I almost had you.”

“Believe what you will." He turned away from Harry and restored the room to normalcy. Once he was finished, he looked at Harry expectantly.

“Sit down.” Harry pointed to the couch. Snape did as Harry suggested, his black eyes glittering as he watched Harry. He sat back comfortably, his legs shoulder width apart. Harry hesitantly approached Snape, keeping his eyes fixed on Snape’s groin. He felt nervous again, even though he had done this before and it hadn’t been bad, just boring. He knelt between Snape’s legs and stared at the black cloth before him. He covered up his apprehension with authority.

Harry met Snape’s eyes and coolly said, “I can’t suck it if you don’t take it out.”

“I wasn’t aware you hadn’t mastered buttons,” Snape teased as his fingers hurried to free his cock.

“You’re wearing a million layers of clothing!” Harry retorted.

Snape’s hands paused, hiding the tip of his half-hard cock from Harry’s view. “If you are unable to-”

“I can do it,” Harry declared resolutely, holding onto his determination. He wasn’t going to back out now, he wasn’t a coward. If Snape could give head, then so could he.

Snape removed his hands, revealing his hardening cock and heavy balls. Harry leaned forward and wrapped his hand around the base before he lost his nerve. He used his other hand to pull Snape’s foreskin down and flickered his tongue over the swollen glans. Other than the twitch of his penis, Snape remained still. Harry persevered and sucked Snape into his mouth, bobbing his head over the rapidly swelling length.

He hated it. Why did he wager to do this? He regretted deliberately setting about losing it. Unfortunately, if he refused to give Snape head, he’d be seen as unable to uphold his end of any bargains. He tried to focus on his task, but he grew more displeased with it by the second. Maybe Snape would rather fuck him up the arse. That was a fair trade for a blowjob.

Harry pulled back his head and blurted out, “D’you want to fuck me instead?”

“Are you sure?” Snape asked. Snape’s voice was cool as if he didn’t care either way, but his dick twitched eagerly in Harry’s hand and Harry knew he wanted to.

Harry hid his smile and released Snape’s dick. “Yeah.” He shrugged as if it didn't matter to him. "Sure, why not?"

“Very well.” Snape stood, tucking himself back in his trousers. “But first, take a shower.”

Harry sniffed his armpits. He didn’t think he smelled, but he probably did need to wash himself. He stood and headed down to the bathroom.

“What are some of your other plans?”

“Based on your reaction to the earlier revelation-”

“I’m not going to back out if I have to die,” Harry assured him as he jumped into the tub. “It just had too many flaws. You don’t have the Elder Wand and we don’t know where the Diadem is. What if Voldemort had gone to get the Diadem first? If you had the Elder Wand, knew the exact location of the last two Horcruxes, and had a plan to destroy them at the same time, then I wouldn’t have hesitated so much. Please tell me the rest of your plans are more thought through.”

“Of course,” Snape bristled. “I was merely testing your resolve. If I did intend to select such a course of action I would ensure that he would have no choice but to possess your body. I would also only implement that plan if I could be sure that your body would be destroyed immediately after he entered it.”

“What will you do if he gets control of the Elder Wand? What if he already has control?” Harry asked as he soaped up his legs.

“I am not concerned about that possibility. It would be considered the same as if anyone other than myself had control of the Wand.”

“But he could use it to destroy my soul and possess me,” Harry pointed out.

“There’s no known spell that will destroy a soul and yet leave the corpse alive. The Killing Curse will stop your heart and your brain waves in addition to the removal of your soul,” Snape explained. “The Muggles have devices that they use to keep the body alive long after the soul has left, but the wizarding world has no equivalent due to lack of necessity.” 

"Wait, didn't you say that the potion you pretended to give me this morning did just that?" Harry frowned as he looked over at Snape.

"That potion kills the body while maintaining the illusion of life. There are no spells or potions to maintain the body after the mind and soul have gone. Inferi are the closest and yet it is very obvious, even to the casual observer, that they do not truly live." Snape paused and ran his finger over his mouth as he thought. “I suppose I could develop potions and spells to sustain the body rather than merely giving the appearance of life. If I gave you these potions and he cast the Killing Curse on you, your soul would be destroyed, yet your body would linger as long as the spells and potions were maintained. Theoretically, he could keep you as a shell, an empty body to possess should something happen to his other body. It has never been done before however.”

Harry shivered in the heat of the hot shower. The idea of his body being kept alive for Voldemort’s use was horrific to think about. “Don’t tell me that’s your new number one plan.”

“No.” Snape shook his head. “You’re of more use to me alive.”

“What if he has another Horcrux that we don’t know about?” Harry tilted back his head to rinse out the shampoo.

“It is highly unlikely that there exists a Horcrux of which only he is aware. However-”

"How do you know?" Harry interrupted.

"As you know, seven is a magically auspicious number. The Dark Lord hoped to create seven in order to avoid several of the side effects that come from each Horcrux creation. In order to create a Horcrux, one must cast extremely Dark Magic which fragments the soul. With each fragmentation, the wizard risks loosing his 'main' soul. Furthermore, his grasp on magic deteriorates, becoming more and more unstable. It is amazing that the Dark Lord's magic works as well as it does now, much less that he exists 'intact'."

"But Dumbledore said his magic wasn't affected."

"I have spent longer in the Dark Lord's company than in the Headmaster's. His spells are not as powerful as they used to be and more erratic in their effects. He appears to even suffer the misfortune of accidentally casting spells. Of course, the Dark Lord has always been incredibly powerful and even this decrease in ability does not stop him from being a formidable opponent..." Snape's right hand drifted towards his left arm before he caught himself. "However, I have not dismissed the existence of Horcruxes of which I am unaware as an impossibility, and that is why I’d prefer to keep you alive, if possible."

The way Snape said ‘if possible’ made Harry suspect that it wasn’t likely. The last thing Harry wanted to reflect on before sex was death, so he changed the subject. “For our next contest, I want to try something a bit different.”

“Giving up already?” asked Snape with a smug expression on his face.

“You wish,” Harry shot back. “I’ve proven I can kick your arse.”

“Hardly. You’ve yet to win during a direct attack.”

“And creating invisible shields to trap me is a direct attack? I want to have a contest of stealth.” Harry jumped out of the tub and snatched a towel off the rack. “You’ll spell all the furniture black and set it up like an obstacle course. I’ll wear my clothes and we’ll sneak around and try to catch each other.”

“I prefer a challenge. That won’t be much of one at all.” Snape stood and opened the potions cabinet with a wave of his hand. He removed the muscle potion and closed the cabinet.

Harry stretched the towel out on the rug and sat down. He held out his hand to Snape. “You won’t be allowed to use any form of magic at all.”

Snape placed the potion in Harry’s outstretched hand. “And how are we to be sure who spotted the other first?”

“You literally have to catch me,” Harry said as he drizzled the potion over his legs and across his abdomen before handing the bottle back to Snape over his shoulder. “If we see each other at the same time, then it’s a tie. You’d have to put a lot of items in the room so we can sneak around and get close to each other without being seen.”

Snape’s potion-warmed hands began to massage the tension out of Harry’s shoulders with hard, deep strokes. “Perhaps I will blindfold myself to make the contest more equal.”

“Don’t underestimate me,” warned Harry as he pressed back against Snape’s hands. “I learned how to be quiet when I didn’t want to get caught. I could steal food from the fridge with Uncle Vernon in the next room. But if you want to blindfold yourself, go ahead. I’ll never get tired of getting blowjobs.”

Snape's hands drifted lower. “Lie on your stomach.”

Harry stretched out on the rug. Snape drizzled the potion down Harry’s spine, then set the bottle to the side. He bent over Harry and began to work his way slowly down Harry’s back. Harry closed his eyes, his body going limp as his penis hardened. He had thought that Snape was just going to stretch him out and stick it in, but he wasn’t going to object. If Snape was going to give him a massage every time, he’d lose on purpose more often.

Snape's hands passed over Harry's buttocks and travelled down his legs. He pressed his thumbs into the pads of Harry's feet before he rolled each toe in his fingers. It was heavenly. Yes, Harry would definitely have to lose more often. Snape slowly worked his way back up Harry's body, this time lingering over Harry's upper thighs. Harry spread his legs to give him greater access. Snape teasingly ran a finger down Harry's crack, skipping his hole and stopping before he reached his balls. Harry shivered at the caress, his breath catching in his throat as Snape pressed his finger into the skin just above Harry's testicles and rolled it around in small circles. 

Snape shifted slightly and then slid his finger up and down the sensitive strip of flesh between Harry's pucker and his balls. Harry grabbed the towel as the exploring digit inched its way closer to his hole with each stroke. He had become so used to the tingle of the potion seeping into his skin that he usually ignored it, but when Snape's finger flickered over his pucker, it was if a bolt of harmless electrical energy surged through his arse, heading straight towards his dick.

"Oh!"

Snape's finger returned and lingered over his pucker, moving in slow teasing circles. Harry moaned softly as the tingling sensation faded. He had expected sex in the bed, but here was fine too. He frotted his rapidly hardening dick restlessly against the towel as Snape's fingers drifted lower and lightly rubbed his balls.

Abruptly, Snape stood and stepped over to the sink to wash his hands. "Lay two towels on the bed," he instructed Harry in a smooth, cool voice.

Harry sprung into action. He jumped to his feet, ignoring the heavy bob of his prick, and yanked the two other towels off the rack. "Lengthwise or crosswise?" he asked, filling his voice with fake coolness; pretending, like Snape, that he didn't care a wit about what was going to happen.

"Lengthwise," Snape answered, busy soaping his hands.

Harry forced himself to walk casually. He stepped through the open bars and stretched out the towels on the bed before carefully climbing on top of them. Snape entered the cell and began to systemically undress. His movements were slow and methodical as he undid the multitude of buttons, each popping and revealing more and more of his well-hidden body. It seemed almost like a strip tease or a response to a dare. As he undressed, Snape would periodically glance over at Harry as if checking to make sure he was still paying attention to the show.

Harry sat cross-legged on the bed and grew harder by the second as he followed Snape's movements. The anticipation of what was to come was an aphrodisiac almost as powerful as the potion. After Snape had finally stripped off his y-fronts, folded it, and placed it on Harry's chair with the other articles of clothing, he stepped over to the bed, his half-erect cock bobbing as he walked. He paused by the side of the bed and his eyes roamed over Harry, hungrily taking him in as if he were a batch of newly discovered and forbidden potion supplies.

The look of appraisal sent shivers down Harry's spine and he uncurled his legs, leant back on his hands, and waited for Snape to begin.


	48. Chapter 48

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

Harry watched Snape undress, and when he was finished, Harry asked, “What do-”

Snape swooped down on him, pressing his mouth against Harry’s in a fierce kiss as he shoved him back on the bed. Harry gasped in surprise and, as soon as he opened his mouth, Snape’s tongue invaded. For a moment, Harry could do nothing but lie helplessly against the bed in shock as Snape’s tongue plundered his mouth with surprising ferocity. It wasn’t anything like the soft, romantic kisses he had shared with Ginny. This was all fire and hungry passion, as if Snape was trying to consume him. Snape’s black eyes bore into his and never had Harry seen them so heated. The raw lust he saw burning in those depths contrasted sharply with the cold darkness he had always seen before.

Never had he felt so wanted, needed, desired. It would’ve scared him before, but now it inflamed him. He grabbed Snape’s shoulders and returned the kiss with equal ferocity, meeting Snape’s tongue with his own. Snape was a firestorm, burning out of control and consuming everything in walls of flames.

Harry could hardly breathe, Snape's huge nose squashing his, as he desperately tried to keep up with Snape’s fevered kisses and soft bites. Snape was a rip current dragging him further out to sea, but somehow losing control no longer frightened him. Snape's iron self-control had melted, revealing the force of his passion. Revelling in Snape's fierce desire, Harry gave in to his own needs and wants. He discarded his fears and his inhibitions and yielded to the arousal coiling in his belly. The worry surrounding sex that had gripped him a month ago was a mere memory, a feeling so faint it was almost as if it belonged to someone else. 

Snape gave a low growl and tightened his grip on Harry’s upper arms. He released Harry’s mouth and covered Harry’s neck and shoulders with nips and hard kisses. His silky, soft hair slid over Harry's body as he tasted Harry’s skin as if it were a feast laid out before a starving man. He shifted his body, pressing their dicks together. Harry moaned as he thrust his hips, rubbing their hard lengths against each other.

Snape’s tongue slid over Harry’s ear as he ground his hips down. He closed his teeth over the lobe, sucking hard on the small bit of flesh.

Holy shit, that felt fucking fantastic! It seemed impossible to believe that there were sensitive parts of his body he hadn't known about. Even though he had had sex with Snape for weeks, what they were doing now was completely different. Maybe it was the near-death experience; maybe it was how Snape touched, kissed, and tasted him all over as if he wanted, needed Harry; but this was explosive. They had just begun and already his prick spit out precum furiously, demanding release.

“Move, Snape!” pleaded Harry, trying to get the heavy Potions Master to move his hips faster. Snape ignored him and licked down the side of Harry’s neck instead, his hips rolling ever so slowly, stimulating Harry enough to keep him interested but not enough to get anywhere.

“Faster!” Harry thrust his hips as best he could. “Move faster!”

Snape rolled to the side, letting Harry’s trapped prick spring free. Immediately Harry snaked a hand down to grab his cock, but Snape caught his hands and pinned them together above his head. 

"Not yet," he said in a breathless tone, his fiery eyes darting over Harry's body as if he couldn't decide where to put his mouth next. Harry wanted Snape's hands and mouth all over his body, exploring, caressing, kissing, and licking him everywhere as long as Snape didn't stop looking at him with that hunger.

Placing his left hand over Harry's wrists, Snape's right hand darted down to curl around Harry’s weeping cock and stroked him in slow, loose strokes. His dark eyes watched his hand’s languid movements as if he were observing a potion brew.

“Harder, grip it harder!” Harry demanded through gritted teeth, shoving his hips to press his cock up against Snape’s hand. 

Snape’s fingers tightened around Harry’s dripping length in response and Harry gasped, arching his back and thrusting into Snape’s tight grasp. His balls tightened and the familiar tingling pressure in his groin grew more urgent. Harry shot towards orgasm, his eyes squeezed shut and his hips pumping wildly into Snape's firm stroking grip. Groans escaped his throat as the feel of Snape's hand around his cock made all coherent thought flee his brain.

Cool air suddenly hit Harry's cock as Snape's warm fingers left his penis. 

"Huh?" asked Harry before his brain kicked in. Oh yeah, sex. They were going to have sex. He shifted to spread his legs, ready to be fucked.

Snape threw one leg over Harry's, holding him firmly against the bed. He released Harry's hands and said, "Hold still."

"Hold still?" asked Harry, his brow furrowing. How was Snape supposed to fuck him like this? He pushed himself up on his elbows.

Snape placed his left hand on Harry's chest and pushed him back down. He curled the fingers of his right hand around Harry's penis once again. His dark, heated eyes fixed on Harry's, he said, "I won," his low velvet voice sending shivers down Harry's spine. In the same dangerously luxurious tone, he added, "I’ll do what I want." He pressed his thumb hard against Harry’s precum-slicked glans and rolled it around in slow circles.

"Nnnh!!" Harry’s eyes rolled back in his head and he shook with pleasure as Snape resumed the rhythmic slide over his cock. If Snape expected him to lie there passively, he was going about it in all the wrong ways. Not that he was complaining. If Snape wanted to pin him against the bed and wank him, he certainly wasn't going to tell him to stop.

Snape’s hot mouth returned to Harry’s neck, and he licked and kissed his way down the side. His long, spidery fingers pumped Harry’s shaft with agonisingly slow movements, tight enough to move the foreskin, but too loose to push Harry closer to orgasm. He mouthed and nipped Harry’s breastbone for far too long and Harry grew more and more frustrated by the lack of progress by the second. At last, his patience broke and he shifted upwards, placing his left nipple under Snape's mouth. Snape obliged, flickering his tongue lightly over it before giving his careful attention to the other.

"Oh yessss," Harry hissed through gritted teeth as Snape closed his mouth around Harry’s left nipple. He sucked hard, his tongue teasing the tip. Harry gripped the sheets, pressing his chest up against that skilled mouth and tongue. 

Just as Harry grew close to orgasm again, Snape released his cock, his fingers drifting down to tease Harry's balls. Harry groaned in frustration and Snape tossed back his hair, his eyes meeting Harry's. "Patience," he said with a smirk. 

"Fuck patience." Harry reached for Snape's cock, but Snape pushed his hand away. 

"Trust me on this," said Snape as he pressed Harry's hand back down against the bed. 

Harry lost track of time, unable to focus on anything but the ache in his balls and his throbbing dick as Snape built his arousal, bringing him maddeningly close to orgasm only to back off time and time again. To be held at that point; close to coming but not yet there, felt so amazing it was almost surreal. However, as time stretched on, Snape's hand kept slowing at the wrong time, drifting away from Harry's impatient and dripping cock to explore the rest of his body, Harry needed release as he never had before. At that point, he was ready to agree and give Snape head again as long as he brought him to orgasm.

He grabbed Snape's upper arm in a tight grip and growled through bared teeth, "Fuck me. Now."

Snape shifted his left hand to the back of Harry’s head. Nails scratched his scalp as Snape bent to catch his mouth in a wild kiss. Long fingers clamped around his cock, finally giving him the pressure he needed. Snape pumped his arm faster, his tongue ravaging Harry’s slack mouth. Harry gripped him all the more tightly, panting into the sloppy kiss. So close. Too close to do anything but hold onto Snape as he raced towards the precipice.

Snape's hand gave a half-twist up and over the too-sensitive head and that was all it took. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and his body shot upward as tight as an archer's drawn bow, ecstasy crashing through him, dragging him along on a wild ride. Come burst pulsing from his prick, coating his stomach and chest in hot, creamy-white, wet strands. He shook all over, barely able to breathe, while release flooded him. Bloody hell. It was like a million doses of the drug. When he could finally breathe again and the pounding of blood in his ears quieted, he opened his eyes, taking huge gulps of air as his heart beat slowly returned to normal. 

Snape wore a look of self-satisfaction, watching Harry through half-lidded eyes. "Much better, hm?" he asked, his voice rough. 

Floating on a cloud of bliss, Harry was too dazed to do anything but nod as he lay there, gasping for breath. His body was limp, as if the bone-removing spell Lockhart had used on his arm had been cast on his entire body. Through his haze he caught a glimpse of Snape's cock and saw that he hadn’t got off. Snape was still hard, his penis swollen and red. His cheeks were tinged with pink, and his eyes heated, but otherwise, he held himself as if he didn't care that he had a raging hard-on. Harry knew, despite his act of nonchalance, that he desperately wanted to come. It was a bit unfair that he hadn't, especially after he'd just given Harry the most earth-shattering orgasm he'd ever experienced.

Harry reached for Snape’s swollen penis. Snape batted his hand away, as if he found the offer offensive. He hooked his hands under Harry’s armpits and lifted him up, scooting him farther up on the bed. Harry lay there like a rag doll as Snape manipulated his limbs and positioned himself between Harry’s legs. He pushed Harry’s legs apart and up towards his chest.

“Hold these,” he ordered in a clipped tone as he stared down at Harry with intense concentration. He looked as if he were about to demonstrate to a class how to brew a potion, not about to fuck Harry into the bed.

Harry hooked his hands under his knees and held his legs apart, waiting for the all too familiar ritual of fingering to begin.

Snape rolled his fingers in Harry’s semen, cast the cleaning spell, and then pushed a finger inside without lube. Harry was so relaxed, his body put up no resistance and it slid in easily. Snape removed his finger and added a second, thrusting them both in without giving him a chance to adjust. He didn't need to be slowly fingered open anyway. Snape always took too damn long and right now, he just wanted to be fucked.

Snape apparently agreed because he removed his fingers after scissoring them once. Catching a jar of lube he had _Accio'd_ towards him, he opened it and scooped out a small amount. Moving with a quickness that belied the calm expression on his face, he smeared the substance over his dick. 

Harry lifted up his bum, ready for him. Snape moved forward and pressed the head of his full cock up against Harry’s arsehole.

His dark eyes flickered to Harry's face. "You ready?" he asked, the breathlessness in his voice betraying the neutral expression on his face.

More than ready, Harry nodded. "Yeah."

Snape thrust the tip of his cock inside. Harry gasped and grabbed the sheets as he felt himself stretch to accommodate Snape’s ample thickness. 

“Are you hurt?” asked Snape in concern, his eyebrows knitting together.

Harry shook his head. He had a bit of discomfort at the quick entry, but Voldemort didn’t seem to care unless his pain was sharp. "I’m fine," he reassured Snape.

Snape grabbed Harry’s hips and slowly sheathed himself completely. His eyelids drooped and, in a voice meant to be clinical and failing, he said, "Inform me of any pain."

"I will," promised Harry, lost in the slow burn of Snape’s thick organ. Without an over-abundance of lube, he could feel his body enveloping Snape's cock in a tight grip. "The last thing I want is for Voldemort or anyone else to show up in the middle of this. No do-overs if he does."

Snape leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of Harry’s shoulders. He rolled his hips in slow deep strokes, nearly pulling out before burying himself completely again. "You will regret... that policy the instant you... are interrupted... whilst receiving fellatio." His face had such a look of intense concentration; it was as if sex with Harry was the most important task he had ever embarked on in his life. 

Harry debated about squeezing his arse to try and break through the narrow bands of Snape's self-restraint. But he wanted to be fucked, long and hard enough to come a second time. He wiggled around, trying to find that perfect spot. "It’s to stop you from cheating and claiming someone has arrived just so you can get a second turn." 

"And what’s to stop me... from claiming the same... and leaving you frustrated?" Snape grinned wickedly as he maintained his slow and steady pace. 

Harry grabbed onto Snape’s arms and began to thrust back against him, shifting his body until he found the perfect angle that made him gasp with each thrust and his cock re-harden. "Ah..... You wouldn’t, mhm, get away with it. I’d know what you were doing."

"You overestimate your influence." Snape snapped his hips harder, driving even deeper into Harry's tight arse.

"Ah! Yes!" Harry's head dropped backward and he gripped Snape’s arms tighter. "There!"

To Harry’s great disappointment, Snape only thrust a few more times before pulling out. "Roll over onto your hands and knees," he said in a slightly breathless tone as his eyes roamed over Harry’s body.

Harry released Snape’s arms and flipped over quickly, spreading his legs wide and pushing his bum eagerly up in the air. Snape rubbed his cock head over Harry’s crack, pressing it against his hole, but not yet pushing through the tight rim. Harry canted his hips back further, trying to get Snape's cock to breech him. Instead Snape shifted away. Harry growled in frustration and Snape relented, pressing the glans up against Harry's hole. He pushed in the tip and Harry thrust back against him. Snape pulled it back out before Harry could get more than the tip inside. 

Harry turned back his head and glared at Snape. "Are you going to fuck me or what?"

Snape smirked, grabbed hold of Harry’s hips, and buried himself to the hilt in one hard stroke.

"Oh!" Harry's head snapped back, his mouth dropping open with pleasure as he dug his fingers into the sheets. Snape drove into him hard and deep, and Harry matched his strokes to meet Snape's sharp thrusts with his own. He had forgotten what it was like to be fucked like this. So hard it was almost painful. So quick he couldn’t concentrate on anything but his building pleasure. He ignored his cock which was demanding release again, instead holding himself upright on trembling limbs, drawing out his pleasure for as long as he could. So perfect. So right fucking like this. If only it could go on forever.

The non-stop pounding and sliding of Snape's thick cock in and out of his arse drove him to the brink. He teetered on the edge of the precipice again, ready to fall at any moment. He shifted to reach down for his dick when Snape suddenly pulled out.

"No!" Harry protested. "I was so close! You can't stop now!"

Snape grabbed Harry's hips and flipped him over, pushing up Harry’s legs and nearly bending him in half. He thrust in again with a grunt, fucking Harry with that same demanding pace. His face was red, his lips curled up in a snarl as if he was about to rant at Harry in anger. 

Harry wrapped his legs tightly around Snape's waist, pulling him closer, urging him on. His hands roamed over Snape's body, caressing every bit of it he could reach. He trailed his fingers through the soft hair, ran his hands over the wiry muscles of the arms, and pinched and pulled at the small, dark nipples. Snape remained focused on his task until Harry scratched down his back, and then his eyes glazed over and a noise arose deep in his throat that was almost a purr. 

Harry did it again, harder and slower, catching skin and sweat underneath his nails as he dragged his fingers up and down the muscled expanse. Snape's head flew back and his already nearly inhuman pace increased. 

Snape lowered his head and hissed out, “Touch yourself.” His dark eyes were wild, his muscles tensing under Harry's hands. Any second now he would lose it.

Harry’s hand shot down and he gripped his cock, wanking himself hard. He closed his eyes and let his pleasure overwhelm him. He was so close; it didn’t take long before his senses overloaded and release flowed through him. His body shook uncontrollably as every fluid in his body seemed to go straight to his balls and then up and out through his dick, taking every bit of hate and fear with it. There was nothing but warmth inside him. Warmth and liberation, as if he were free and flying. 

Snape gave a low growl deep in his throat and Harry was vaguely aware that Snape was coming too, his hips pistoning in wild jerks, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself. He opened his eyes to see Snape staring down at him and Harry pulled him down for a breathless, sloppy kiss that Snape soon ended so they could both gasp for air. His penis still twitching softly, Snape pulled out and collapsed against the bed beside Harry, lying on Harry's left arm.

Harry lay there feeling spent, his mind blown. If this was losing, he wasn’t sure he wanted to win. His mind drifted over nothing until he felt his trapped arm begin to tingle as it fell asleep, and he shoved at Snape.

"Oi, get off my arm!" 

Snape bolted upright. "Do you need a potion?" he asked in concern, brushing back a strand of hair from his face.

"Nah, I’m fine." Harry shook out his arm.

"The lubricant I use contains a mild analgesic." Snape called his wand to him and cast the cleaning spells. The pink had faded from his cheeks, his skin sallow again.

"A what?" Harry yanked his pillow towards himself.

"A painkiller," answered Snape as he sent his wand back to his clothing and lay back down.

"Nah, it doesn't hurt." He felt a bit sore, but Voldemort didn’t seem to care about that, otherwise he would’ve shown up after many of their practice sessions. The bed was small and he pressed against Snape's warmth, their legs tangling together. He rested his head on Snape’s chest, listening to Snape’s pounding heart beat. He didn't want to ask, especially after having had such fantastic sex, but knew he had to. "Don’t you have to hurt me sometime soon?"

Snape shifted and combed his fingers through Harry’s hair before stroking them down his spine. Harry shivered at the light touch.

"I do," Snape murmured low in his ear. "I’ll do that tomorrow evening."

"What did you tell him?" Harry closed his eyes.

"The Dark Lord?" asked Snape as his fingers traced Harry’s spine in gentle caresses.

"Yeah." Harry concentrated on the path of the fingers, relishing in the feel of skin against his own. "How did you explain being nice to me?"

"I informed him," said Snape in an almost bored tone, "that it would be impossible for me to have painless intercourse with you while you were resistant unless I drugged you heavily. As he is aware of the dangers of the overuse of analgesics, he agreed that it would be best to limit their usage as much as possible. I also suggested to him that, due to your past, you would be less likely to break under physical abuse. I asked his permission to be kind to you in order to make you submissive. Now that he believes the charade and you to be broken, there is no need for me to be as gentle with you in bed."

Harry had expected to hear an explanation along those lines; Snape often attempted to pacify him with treats and books and other small gifts. He had suspected for a while that many of the things Snape did for him in kindness were simply ways to manipulate him. But to hear Snape state a plan like that with such indifference, as if it were just one among many, turned his blood to ice and dropped his heart to his stomach. To try to break a person through fake love was cruel beyond belief. What sort of darkness was hiding inside Snape for him to come up with these things? Even worse, he had no doubt Snape could do it.

He couldn't deny that he would be more vulnerable to illusions of kindness than to pain. Snape must've seen enough in the Occlumency lessons to learn about the Dursleys. He had to have figured out that physical, emotional, and verbal abuse, neglect, and threats of future torture had little effect. No amount of pain could break him or make him afraid to walk into the throne room without his head held high. They could never torture him into submission.

Yet, he wouldn't have stayed so long in prison if Snape wasn't his guard. He would've escaped long ago and never bowed before Voldemort if Snape hadn't convinced him to do so as part of his plan. It wasn't just because Snape helped him that he didn't try to escape. He stayed, because he couldn't let Snape die and Snape had to know that; maybe Voldemort did, too.

Yes, if they were ever to find a way to break him, fake kindness would be how they would do it. But he wasn’t broken, was he? His willing slave persona was just a charade; a trickery designed by Snape to protect him from pain and fool Voldemort into believing something that wasn't true. He was only submissive in the throne room. Outside of it, he and Snape still fought. Snape acted like a complete git to him half the time, which was hardly what he would expect if Snape were really trying to follow what he had told Voldemort. Not to mention that if Snape was planning to make him into a personal slave, he wouldn’t announce the plan so openly. That would just be stupid. 

Snape continued to pet Harry's spine, his fingers trickling easily over the bumps. He remained quiet, as if waiting for Harry to respond. It was rare for him to be so open about his plans. Harry could see why. A month ago, that plan would've scared the piss out of him with its cruel cleverness. Now he admired the lengths Snape went to to protect him. 

"You know," Harry said slyly. "Blowjobs are a sure way to win my affection and cooperation."

Snape pulled away from Harry and looked down his nose. His eyebrow arched in the same manner used when dismissing idiotic students. "Perhaps you should win then," he stated in a dry tone before Summoning his clothes and pulling on his y-fronts.

"Oh, I will." Harry grinned and sat up. "What’s for dinner? I’m starving."

"I was wondering when you’d ask that." Snape slid out of bed and stepped over to the table. He tapped his wand against the surface and Harry’s meal appeared.

Harry hurried over to his chair and plopped himself down, pulling the roast lamb towards himself.

"I have brewing to attend to tonight," Snape commented as he buttoned up his shirt. "I will return in the morning to serve you breakfast before Draco arrives. It may take a while for me to ascertain whether Draco is the Master of the Elder Wand, so most of tomorrow will be devoted to his lessons. We should have time for another contest in the evening, but it would be best not to plan for it."

"I understand," Harry answered around a mouthful of carrots.

Snape scowled and shook his head. "Don’t make a mess of your food." He swept from the cell, disappearing through the library door.

Harry fetched the _Faustus_ book and read while he finished his meal at a leisurely pace. He was curious to read the other version and see how it compared to the one he was reading now. After he had finished his meal and completed his nightly routine, he read in bed until he felt sleepy. As he was placing the _Faustus_ book under his mattress, he saw the _Cosmos_ book. He pulled it out and flipped to the picture of Ginny. Guilt stormed through him as he stared at her picture. What would she say if she knew he was having sex with Snape? It was one thing to do it because Voldemort demanded it; it was another thing to do it for his own pleasure. She’d be heartbroken.

He closed the book solemnly and placed it under the mattress. He’d have to find some other reward for their contests. Even though he had broken up with Ginny, he still felt it was wrong for him to sleep with other people. He wouldn’t want her to do the same after all. What if Snape had been right when he spoke about Ginny and Draco? What if she had turned to someone else now that he was imprisoned and possibly a slave? Maybe she thought he didn’t love her anymore. The thoughts disturbed him and it was quite some time before he was able to fall asleep. 

~~~

Harry woke up and slid out of bed. He padded over to the sink and began to brush his teeth. Suddenly he paused, his mouth foamy and toothbrush held to his teeth. His skin was tingling on the back of his neck and he could feel the hairs there stand up. He lowered his toothbrush and slowly turned to see the dark figure of a person standing on the other side of the bars. His vision was still fuzzy, but it didn't look like Snape.

"Snape?" he asked the person, but they didn't move. He put down his toothbrush and shuffled over to the bars, but the figure moved one step away for every step he took forward, and by the time he got to the bars, the black-clad individual stood in the library. Raising a hand, they beckoned Harry to follow, the same gesture that Harry had seen in the window from his dream.

Harry's eyes snapped open. He sat up and rubbed his eyes. After the Hogwarts dream, he had thought the freaky dreams were over but apparently not. Yawning, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye and glanced over to see the dark figure now standing beside his sink.

"OH SHIT!" Harry jumped to his feet, his heart slamming to a stop. It wasn't Snape. It wasn't human. It was in the shape of a human man, but entirely black and flat as if a shadow had come to life. 

It raised an arm and Harry screamed, "SNAPE!!" pounding his cuffs violently against the wall. The shape didn't appear to react; it just stood there, waving for Harry to approach. As Harry stared at it, his heart trying to leap out of his chest, it began to shuffle towards him. 

Harry grabbed his pillow and threw it at the figure as he tore to the edge of the bed and took off towards the opposite end of the cell. He turned around and flattened himself against the wall, only to see that the shadowy figure had vanished. 

"Fuck!" Harry gasped for breath, his eyes darting all over the room as he held onto the wall for support. He dropped down to check that it wasn't hiding under the table somehow, but he saw no trace of it.

The library door swung open and Harry nearly jumped out of his skin. Snape swept in, his robes taking up space twice as wide as the shadowy figure.

"The-there was a-a thing. In my cell." Harry thrust out an arm, jabbing it at the sink. He was trembling, his arm shaking, but he couldn't care less about his open display of fear. Whatever it was, it had invaded his cell and his mind. 

Snape's eyebrows drew in together. "A thing?"

"Like a person. Only shadow." Harry took a few deep breaths and forced himself to calm down. "I've seen this shadow-person twice in my dreams. This time, he was standing right outside my cell. When I woke up, he was inside it! By the sink."

The bars spread apart for Snape who strode over to the sink. He removed his wand and cast spells, examining the area. He put his wand back in his robes and turned towards Harry. "No one was here."

"I saw something!" Harry protested.

Snape slowly shook his head. "You must not have been awake."

"No, something was here." Harry strode over to the sink and glanced at the area where the figure had appeared. When he looked at the toiletries lined up on the sink, his heart dropped. "They've been moved!" The soap and the toothbrush had switched places. Snape scoffed behind him.

Harry whirled around. "Did you do this? Because this isn't fucking funny. I'm serious. I am going to fucking kill you if you are fucking with me!"

Snape's brow wrinkled. "I didn't do anything. How do you know you didn't switch them yourself?"

"I always put them in the same place every single time! There was something here." Harry jabbed his finger at the sink. "I saw it."

"Nothing was physically or magically here," said Snape. "I would know. The Dark Lord would know if a living thing had breached the wards."

"What about a ghost or something?" Harry could not stop peering around the room, searching for signs of the form.

"Ghosts cannot penetrate his wards." Snape regarded Harry for a moment. "As you have taken a lot of sedatives over the last few months, it was probably a hypnagogic hallucination."

"A what?"

"It's a hallucination that occurs when the body is shifting between sleep and wakefulness. Sometimes the mind continues dreaming after the body has woken. You have nothing to worry about, they are fairly common."

Harry scratched his arm, staring at the sink. He didn't think it had been a hallucination, he had seen the same figure twice now. But he had no other way to explain it.

"I will leave to prepare for Draco’s lessons now," Snape told Harry, watching him closely. "As I expect the lessons to take up most of the day, I will need to return in order to serve you lunch and possibly dinner. You must act as though you expect me to return any minute. When I do return, do not speak about our plans until I initiate a conversation on that topic, understand?"

The idea of being stuck in his cell for hours with absolutely nothing to do sounded hellish. "I can read, right?"

"While that is permissible, I’d rather you not be observed reading. "Snape paused for a moment and ran a finger across his lips as he thought. "I will set up an alarm to alert you should anyone step into the library. I may not be able to replace it if someone should trigger it, so I’ll advise you to discontinue reading the moment you hear the tone and only return to your books after I have given you permission."

Harry nodded. "What happens if Lucius visits?"

"I will also use a spell to monitor you while you are in your cage. I will intervene should I observe him engaging in any behaviour you are ill-equipped to handle. Remember, the Dark Lord has forbidden him to physically harm you. If his conduct turns rough, remind him of your Master’s wishes." 

"I don’t think he’ll listen," Harry muttered.

"He’d be a fool not to." Snape removed his wand from his robes and pointed it at the wall near Harry's pillows. A dark green spell shot out the end of Snape's wand and dissipated as soon as it hit the wall. "Remain near the head of your bed as much as possible. You will hear a soft tone the moment anyone steps on the library floor."

"What should I do then?"

"If it is Narcissa, distract her. If it is Lucius, obey him." Snape spelled breakfast on the table.

Harry swallowed with difficulty and nodded.

Snape stepped over to the bed. With a flick of his wand, the top mattress rose upwards, revealing the books. Snape retrieved all of them, except for _Cosmos_ and _Faustus_. Snape looked at them for a second before a book flew in from the library. Harry reached out and grabbed it.

"Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s _Faust_ , a tragedy in two parts," Harry read and then joked, "I don’t suppose you have anything with pictures?"

Snape frowned at Harry, but his bright eyes showed he understood Harry was joking. "If you behave, I'll bring you a colouring book," he dead-panned before he swept from the room. 

Harry yawned and debated going back to sleep in order to help the day pass quickly. However, he wasn't sure if his food would be returned to the kitchen automatically after a set time and he didn't want to lose his meal. He padded over to the table. Snape had served him a breakfast typical of a day that would be spent in the practice room - thick sausages, fried eggs with toast, crisp slices of bacon - and mangoes for dessert. He ate the mangoes slowly, savouring their taste before he speared a sausage and ate with his head turned towards the door. He felt unaccountably nervous; more so than when he was waiting to be called to the throne room to be tortured, but he ignored his fluttering stomach and forced himself to eat. 

After breakfast, he went through his morning routine at a slower pace than usual, trying to drag out his morning. After he was finished, he cleaned his cell, using toilet paper and hand soap to scrub the surfaces clean. He nearly used the entire roll in his work, flushing the dirty pieces down the toilet. After he had washed his hands, straightened his bed sheets, and organised his toiletries, he retrieved Marlowe's _Faustus_ and lay down on his bed to read. 

The play was quite dry and difficult to understand. He took frequent breaks to exercise, but before long he was bored out of his skull. He had had a few toys in his cupboard at the Dursleys’ – discards from Dudley, of course – but they had been enough to keep him occupied for hours at a time. When he got bored of playing with them, he had lain in his bed and fantasised, but now his thoughts kept turning to Ginny and his friends, and thinking about them for too long made his heart ache. He wanted to do something. His eyes drifted around his small, bare cell, eventually landing on his cuffs. He ran his fingers over the carvings of dragons, poked his little finger through the half-rings. He still had no idea how to break out of them. Shouldn't he have learned that by now? He'd ask Snape when he returned. What if Voldemort suddenly had need for Snape elsewhere? In that case, it might be better to escape. He should develop an escape plan. It was unwise to rely entirely on Snape, even if he had many plans himself. 

Harry slid off the bed and looked around his cell. There wasn't anything useful as far as he could see. Maybe he could splinter a chair and use one of the legs as a club, except then he'd have to lure his keeper into the cell and keep the club hidden until needed, not to mention that a broken chair would be noticed right away. An intelligent Death Eater would just use _Reparo_ and then his cover would be blown without any benefit. Harry walked over to the toilet and lifted up the cistern lid. As it was plastic instead of ceramic, it wasn't very heavy and wouldn't make a good weapon. Still, he could knock a Death Eater out if he swung it hard enough from the right angle. There was nothing inside the cistern he reckoned he could use. Harry replaced the lid and stepped over to the sink. He gathered his toiletries in his towel and carried them over to the bed where he sat on his pillow and examined them closely. 

When he broke the mouthwash bottle before, the lid had shattered, but the bottle had remained undamaged. The plastic was firm and it didn't look like he could make anything of it. Harry grinned at the idea of spitting the mouthwash in a Death Eater's eyes, but realistically it didn't seem to have any use in combat either. He had already used the toothpaste as glue, but beyond that, he couldn't think of any uses for it other than its intended purpose. The bar of soap seemed just as useless. Now the floss looked like it might offer possibilities. He picked up the floss and wondered how much was needed before it could be used to strangle someone. Harry pulled off a section long enough to fold over twice and tried to break it with his foot. It held up remarkably well, although his fingers started to hurt. Using his toothbrush and mouthwash, he tried to assemble a garotte, but it didn't work right; the mouthwash was the wrong size and the toothbrush had no grip. He'd have to wrap his hands in cloth or else eliminate the Death Eater who came to check on why he was feeling pain. So the floss was another 'no' and he set it aside. The toothbrush could possibly be filed down into a sharp point. Harry climbed off his bed and tried rubbing the handle against the floor, but the tiles were smooth and despite several minutes of hard rubbing, the toothbrush was merely scuffed rather than worn. He might be able to break it in a way so that sharp ends could be produced, but he doubted it. Harry returned it to the hand towel with the other discarded items. 

The deodorant was even more useless. It was made of the same plastic as the mouthwash and was just as small, if not smaller. The comb had points, but the flimsy plastic made it undesirable as a weapon. He could break off a few of the teeth to make a better weapon, but he wasn't sure if it was even worth it. Pulling up one of the corners of his sheets, he gripped the comb tightly and tried to puncture the sheet with one of the large teeth. Yes! If he needed to, he could cut up the blanket and make a weapon. After refitting the sheets and hiding the section with the hole under the mattress, he returned his toiletries to the sink and plotted and planned until a soft charm alerted him to a possible visitor.

Harry knelt on the bed, watching the door with wary eyes. After a second, Snape stepped through the door in a flurry of black. Harry, not sure if Snape was being followed, bowed from his position on the bed, pressing his head to the covers. Snape strode into the cell and paused by the table. Soon, the smell of roast chicken filled the air. 

"You may rise," Snape ordered in a clipped tone. Harry sat up, fixing his eyes on his chest. Snape stepped close to Harry and, placing his hand under Harry's chin, bent down to kiss him. Harry hid his surprise and opened his mouth for Snape, letting Snape's tongue sweep in between his lips. He wasn't sure how active or receptive he should be to Snape, so he closed his eyes and passively allowed Snape to plunder his mouth. Even though the kiss wasn't as desperately hot and frantic as the kisses they shared in bed, it still sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his groin and he was glad when Snape pulled his mouth away. The last thing he wanted was to get hard while they had company. Snape released Harry's chin and affectionately ran his hand down Harry's spine, sending chills throughout his body. 

"I'll play with you later, my pet." Snape's voice was rich and warm. Harry was dying to look at his eyes, but he kept his own fixed on the top buttons of Snape's coat.

"Yes, Master," he answered, unsure what sort of response a cowed slave would give to such a statement that was promise instead of threat. 

"The lessons are progressing well and I expect to be finished before dinner," Snape said as his fingers stroked the back of Harry's neck. 

That probably meant that Draco had possession of the Elder Wand and Snape was going to get it. Harry allowed his smile to show on his face. "I look forward to it, Master."

Snape's fingers lingered on Harry's neck for a second longer before they were removed.

"You may return to your previous activities," Snape announced before striding out of the cell. Harry watched the door close and then left his bed. It was a shame Snape had to be a dick to him tonight. Even though Harry didn't plan on sleeping with him for pleasure anymore, he enjoyed the closeness they shared. Harry had been given a perfect lunch: roast chicken and red potatoes with spices; steamed broccoli, carrots, and cauliflower; and treacle tarts drenched in ice cream for dessert. For a man who spent most of his time being a git, Snape sure knew how to please him when he put his mind to it. Harry dug into his meal, wondering if Snape had expected Lucius to visit. 

After stretching out his meal for as long as he could, Harry grabbed Marlowe's _Faustus_ and read determinedly to the end. When he finished the play, he wasn't entirely sure what it had been about. It was far above his level and he had the feeling he had missed some important plot points. However, he felt quite confident that Snape at least partially identified with Faustus. Faustus had quite a tragic end; his body was found strewn across the ground in parts. Snape had said a while back that surviving Voldemort would be a miracle. Did he expect to end up like Faustus? A few months ago, Harry would've thought Snape was well-deserving of such a fate, but now he hoped they'd both survive. As much as he despised Snape's selfishness, Snape had been open and honest about his motives and Harry appreciated that fact.

Still, there were questions unanswered about why Snape had joined Voldemort. Faustus had willingly sold his soul not only to gain powers and intelligence, but also because he believed his soul to be already damned. Had Snape done the same? As a Slytherin, he might've been expected to join Voldemort. Harry didn't think Snape was blameless in the matter and Snape had never tried to excuse or defend his past behaviour. 

However, what circumstances or choices resulted in the differences between himself and Snape despite their similar pasts? He and Snape, the abandoned boys, had found a home in Hogwarts*, but what a different home they had found. Had Snape really had no friends but the budding Death Eaters who eventually led him to Voldemort? With Gryffindors antagonistic towards Snape like Harry’s father, he probably wouldn't have found refuge in the Order. There were always choices to be made and Snape's difficult life did not absolve him of his choices, but now Harry felt more pity for Snape than anger; more sadness than hate. 

He slid off the bed to hide the book under the mattress. He debated starting on Goethe's version, but his eyes hurt a bit and he worried the discomfort would only increase should he continue reading. For lack of anything better to do, he grabbed the mouthwash, deodorant, and toothpaste off the sink and tried to teach himself to juggle. It was quite disastrous, and despite devoted practice, he was unable to keep more than two objects in the air at the same time. He had just returned the items back to his sink when he heard the tone that meant someone had stepped into the library. Harry hurried back to the bed, kneeling on the mattress. When the door opened, he bowed, pressing his head down. The slow, measured click of boots approached his cell.

"Come here." Lucius's voice was as silky as ever. 

 

*From Deathly Hallows


	49. Chapter 49

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

The sound of Lucius Malfoy's voice sent shivers down Harry's spine, as if he had just been plunged into iced water. If only he could disobey orders. That was impossible though--Snape needed him to distract the Death Eater. Draco's life depended on it.

His heart filled with dread and his limbs heavy, Harry climbed off the bed and stepped over to the bars, his eyes on the floor. Even though he knew he'd never mistake that voice for any other, as soon as he was close enough to make out the silver tip of a cane resting against the bars, his stomach dropped to the floor. A shiny black boot emerged from black robes decorated with silver designs around the trim. Not wanting to be anywhere near the man, Harry stopped an arm's length away from the bars, waiting for a command. 

Malfoy just stood there. 

Time seemed to stretch forever. The only sounds Harry could hear in the small cell were his racing heart and his rapid, shallow breathing. What was Malfoy doing? Was he just going to stand there and stare? It was unbearable. He hadn't been trained for this. How was he supposed to keep Malfoy entertained for hours? 

Swallowing hard, he opened his mouth to speak, but then Malfoy ordered, "Follow me." Shimmering robes shifted and a black-gloved hand opened the bars. With a swirl that would've made Snape proud, he turned and strode to the library. Harry dropped to his hands and knees to crawl after him. Probably the more slave-like he was, the less Malfoy would want to hurt him.

"On your feet." The cane flew back, rapping Harry in the arm. It didn't hurt, but the action drew a startled gasp from his throat. Malfoy said, "I did not order you to crawl."

Harry jumped to his feet, keeping his eyes on the floor. Lucius stood there, doing what, Harry didn't know. Should he apologise for his offence? Raise his eyes or wait for a command? He resisted the urge to wipe his palms on his thighs and waited for Lucius's next command.

After a pause, Lucius ordered, "Crawl," and continued towards the library.

What the hell? Harry returned once again to the floor. In the library, Malfoy transformed the sofa and end tables, creating a large table flanked by four high-backed chairs. 

"Sit."

Sitting in a chair would probably earn him another rap with the cane. Harry dropped rump first to the floor.

Lucius tsked. "Your posture is atrocious. Keep your back straight." He tapped his cane against the small of Harry's back and Harry straightened out his back as best he could. 

"Stand." 

Harry stood, his eyes fixed on Malfoy's chest. 

"Shoulders back, chest out, hands flat against your thighs," commanded Lucius as he walked around Harry, poking him with the cane in the parts he wished to be adjusted. "Have some pride in your work."

What work? Being a slave? How could a person be proud about being a slave? His objections never left the safety of his mind as he dutifully followed Lucius's instructions.

"Bow."

Harry bent, bending as low as he could without falling over.

"No, no," said Lucius in a calm, soft voice. "What have I told you about keeping your back straight? Bend at the waist." Malfoy's cane rose up to push Harry back upright. "Try it again."

He had never thought to bend with his back straight, but he obeyed, bending over as far as he could without tumbling forward. It was an incredibly uncomfortable position and his legs trembled.

"Rise."

Inwardly breathing a sigh of relief, Harry straightened up, trying to remember exactly how Lucius wanted him to hold his back. He had a good memory and Lucius only had to prod him a little bit.

"Any good servant must learn his Master's commands," said Malfoy after he was finished poking Harry. "Stand close enough to observe my hands. I will only verbally give each command once."

Harry turned to face him, finding Malfoy's black gloves. The left remained curled around the tip of his cane, but he held his right out in front of him and Harry focused on that. 

"Come." The last two fingers on Malfoy's right hand shifted inward ever so slightly. Had Harry not been looking for it, he would have missed it completely. He walked a step forward, unwilling to advance any closer to Lucius. 

"This next command is 'leave' which is what I would give to you should I wish for you to remove yourself from my presence. For now, I want you to simply take a few steps backwards due to your poor eyesight. I will ensure that your glasses are given to you whenever I use these commands in the future."

"Yes, Master." Harry nodded. This was easy. He could do this.

"Leave." All of Malfoy's fingers shifted outward with the same subtly with which the bottom two had curled in. Harry walked two small steps backwards, determined to remain close enough so that Lucius couldn't punish him for failing to observe a hand movement. Malfoy gave the signal for 'come' and Harry stepped closer to him again. 

"Sometimes I will wish for you to be in the room but not in my immediate company. In that case, I will give a different command, which is 'retreat.'" Malfoy's fingers moved as he said it. The gesture was almost the opposite of 'come'--only the bottom two shifting. "For now, take a step to the right to show you understand." He repeated the motion.

Harry stepped to the right. Malfoy signalled for Harry to return to him and Harry did so, only to receive the command for 'leave' as soon as he had moved. Each command was shortly followed by another, but with only three simple signals, Harry had no problem complying.

Then, the flutter of fingers came from the hand wrapped around the cane, rather than the hand in front of him. Harry only caught the movements from the corner of his eye and missed the signal. His stomach turned. He should've known Malfoy was waiting to catch him in a mistake. No point in denying it. "I'm sorry, Master. I missed the signal." He waited for the blow to fall, but it never came. Malfoy simply repeated the action--a command for retreat. 

The signals switched hands, but after chasing Snitches around for years, it was easy to catch the movements now that he knew to watch both hands. 

After he had gone through at least twenty signals and not caught Harry in a single mistake, Malfoy let his right hand drop to his side. "You are clumsy in your servitude, but only due to lack of training. You have the intelligence and the determination to be a great slave."

Being a great slave was not something Harry aspired to, but the compliment surprised and pleased him. Snape always called him stupid, but if Malfoy, who was very clever himself, thought that Harry was intelligent, then he must be decently smart. 

"I don't suppose you've ever had a proper afternoon tea, have you?" Malfoy asked as he sat down in a chair with a flutter of robes. 

Petunia had forced him to serve many of the Dursleys’ guests, but he doubted that what Petunia thought to be proper matched what Malfoy did. "I don't believe so, sir," said Harry, keeping the wariness from his voice. Why was Malfoy being so... kind? It unnerved him. He half wanted Lucius to do something horrific just so that they could get it over with rather than waiting for him to reveal his true colours. Harry could take pain. He had learned to deal with his body being hurt. The waiting was worse somehow.

"I imagine not." Malfoy tapped the table with his wand and four sets of cups, saucers, and spoons appeared before each seat along with a salver on which rested a teapot along with a small jug of milk and two bowls--one filled with sugar cubes and the other with thin slices of lemon. Lucius floated the salver over to Harry. "You only serve with your right hand. Use your left to hold the salver. Now, pour the tea into the cup to my left." 

Harry placed the salver over his left hand and then grabbed the teapot's handle. A flash of silver and black and Malfoy's cane tapped his hand. "Very clumsy. I will show you." Malfoy stood, walked over to stand behind Harry, and prodded him with his cane until Harry adjusted his back to conform to Lucius's demands. 

"Remember," he said, his breath stirring the hair near Harry's ear, "always maintain correct posture. When you bend, bend at the waist." Malfoy positioned the tray on Harry's left arm and manipulated Harry's fingers around the teapot handle. His own were bare, the gloves removed outside of Harry's vision. The long, pale fingers were surprisingly soft, almost feminine. Now, with the Death Eater so close, Harry noted the robes were a dark, dark green, not black. At first he thought the silver shapes winding and slithering around the trim of the robes were snakes, but a closer look revealed them to be vines with fat diamond leaves that fluttered as if swayed by a nonexistent breeze.

"First, pour the tea." Malfoy pressed up against Harry's back, his breath hot on the back of Harry's neck. Harry's heart rate nearly doubled and he swallowed back his urge to kick Malfoy as hard as he could and run like hell. Malfoy wasn't allowed to hurt him. Why did he have to stand so close? Showing fear would admit his weaknesses, so Harry ignored his panic and allowed Lucius to manoeuvre his hands like a puppet’s. After Malfoy had poured the tea, he returned the teapot to the salver. 

"Now, to offer the milk." Malfoy shifted slightly, his thighs brushing against Harry's arse. Harry froze, unable to suppress his fear with Lucius so damn close. Malfoy had never shown any sexual interest in him before, but maybe that had just been done to lull Snape into a false sense of security. How could Snape have been so stupid to leave him alone with Malfoy for hours? Snape had shown that it was possible to rape without causing pain.

Lucius chuckled. "Relax," he said in Harry's ear in a disturbingly soothing tone. "I have no desire for boys." He curled his fingers around Harry's wrist and guided him to the milk. "I take my tea without garnishment. However, some guests may desire milk, lemon, or sugar. Offer the milk first. If the guest desires milk, he or she will give a slight nod. If so, pour the milk. Watch." With an elegant motion, Lucius poured a small amount of milk into the tea cup. "Now you do it." He removed the contents of the cup with a wave of his hand.

Imitating the actions as best he could, Harry poured the tea and the milk. He apparently performed very well, because Lucius purred, "Very good, Harry," in his ear once he finished.

It was strange to hear his given name spoken like that; soft words with a hint of praise and admiration. Snape only called him Harry when he was ill and never in that tone. He had never thought of it before, how Snape always called him Potter, but now all he could think of was how much he wanted to hear his name spoken like that again. To be Harry. Not Potter, or worse, slave, boy, or pet. Just Harry. It made him want to obey Lucius just to hear his name spoken with affection; to have the illusion of friendship and warmth, even from a black-hearted villain like Malfoy. Harry knew what was happening. He knew that Malfoy was trying to make him submissive to him through kindness. He knew it was all a ploy to control him and yet, he couldn't repress his cravings for affection. He couldn't stop himself from wanting to be Harry again, even if just for a little while. What had happened to him? What had he become that the mere mention of his name said with warmth left him with feelings of appreciation towards a sadist? Any minute now, Malfoy would hurt him. He focused on all his memories of Malfoy in the torture room to ensure he felt only hate.

"Only offer lemon should milk not be accepted," instructed Lucius. His hand slid to Harry's wrist but paused on the way there. He straightened, stepping away from Harry as he did so. A few seconds later, footsteps pounded down the stairs and Harry silently exhaled in relief. Snape was coming. He kept his eyes on the floor and heard rather than saw Snape's dramatic entrance.

"The Dark Lord does not permit him use of the library," Snape lied in a crisp, cool voice, "even while supervised."

"A shame," said Malfoy. He waved away the items for tea and returned the furniture to normal. Motioning with his fingers for Harry to follow, he returned Harry to his cell. Harry could feel Snape's eyes on him. If only they had set up a way to secretly communicate. It was too risky to try, even with Malfoy's back towards them, so he kept his face carefully blank. 

"You can be assured that my intent is only to train him for his future duties," said Malfoy. "How can he serve my family unless he has been properly trained?"

Snape scoffed. "He is useless as a house-elf. He is obedient but clumsy and thick-headed."

Harry clenched his fists. He knew Snape was trying to protect him from Malfoy, but he hated being called stupid.

"He is rather clumsy now," acknowledged Malfoy. "However, he is intelligent enough to be well-trained by the time I am finished with him." He stepped into Harry's cell and conjured a fancy chair for himself. Harry knelt down on the floor between them, keeping his back straight as he bent his head. 

"You have the ability to mould him into perfection in a few days’ time?" asked Snape. If he looked up, Harry knew he would see Snape's eyebrows arching towards his hairline in an expression of complete disbelief. "That will be quite an accomplishment."

"My dear friend," said Malfoy and it was clear, even to Harry, that those words were no longer true if they ever were. He had never heard anyone fight like they did, with politeness and soft words spoken in even tones. "I do not intend for this upcoming visit to be the last. I've trained horses and house-elves--humans are no different. Simply punish the behaviour you wish to discourage and reward the behaviour you wish to encourage."

Upcoming visit? What did Malfoy mean? Harry pretended as though he couldn't hear their conversation, ignoring his racing heart.

"I've never known you to be soft-hearted, Lucius. If he is as intelligent as you say, you will find yourself lacking in opportunities for punishment. Will you be devising impossible tasks in order to ensure his failure?" asked Snape, confirming Harry's worst fears.

"Why no, Severus," Malfoy said in a silky voice as if he had been waiting for Severus to ask him that question. "I will first teach him to accept pain as a reward. A properly trained slave learns that his Master's pleasure is the source of his happiness. His Master's displeasure.... No intelligent slave allows that to occur more than once if he has the ability."

_NO!_ Snape wouldn't give him to Malfoy, he couldn't! This was all wrong! Harry trusted Snape to keep him safe. Snape surely knew what Lucius could do to him. It would be a death sentence.

"I admire your ambition, but I think you will be disappointed with your test subject. Three days may not be enough to teach him not to burn toast."

Three days!? He clenched his hands and teeth tightly, forbidding himself any other expression, his heart pounding as if trying to break through his ribs and sweat trickling down his spine. He couldn't do it, he wouldn't do it! He wouldn't be Malfoy's slave for three fucking days! How could Snape allow the most sadistic Death Eater he'd ever known to play with him for three whole days? He would grab Snape and tear the answers out of him. He couldn't think straight.As soon as Lucius left, he would demand that Snape tell him what the bloody hell was going on.

"The journey is equally as enjoyable as the destination," Lucius said before his voice took on a sharp edge. "Shouldn't you be training my son?"

"Why, yes," said Snape, his voice still exceedingly polite. "I intend to start him on the Medeian Curses. With your permission, of course."

"That will be fine," said Malfoy with a lazy wave of his hand. "I trust your judgement, Severus."

"Very well. The slave may be taken to the cupboard or the bathroom, but not the laundry room or the library, except to pass through."

"I understand."

Snape left with a dramatic swirl of his robes.

Malfoy sat in his chair without moving. Thoughts swirled in Harry's head. He'd never be Malfoy's slave. Never. He'd escape first. He'd kill him first. He didn't care if it meant he'd be killed in return. There was no way he'd willingly be Malfoy's slave. 

"You listened to our conversation." The statement was half question, half accusation.

"Yes, sir," admitted Harry, knowing it was useless to lie.

"Your face is pale. Were you aware that you will be brought to my manor in a week's time?"

A week? There was a date? "No, sir," Harry gasped out. His nails were biting into his palms and he forced himself to open his hands, laying his palms flat against his thighs. 

"No, I suppose Severus would not admit the Dark Lord's displeasure to you," mused Malfoy. "How long do you think it will take in order for me to train you to enjoy receiving pain from me?"

"I don't know, sir." Never. He never would.

"You don't think you ever will, do you?"

Harry didn't know what he was supposed to answer. He decided to go the safe route. "I like to please my Masters."

Malfoy snatched up his cane and swung it at Harry's head. Harry held himself firmly in place, mentally wincing. Malfoy's cane stopped a finger's breadth away from Harry's cheek. 

"Don't patronise me. When I ask a question, I want an answer."

With slow deliberateness, Lucius ran the tip of the cane down Harry's cheek and over his neck. The touch was light, but the icy metal seemed to sear his skin. Harry wanted to flinch away, but he forced himself to remain frozen. Snape needed to come back _now_. 

"You were scared that I would strike you, weren't you?" The cane tip drifted down Harry's arm.

"Yes, sir," admitted Harry, allowing his fear to show on his face.

In the same casual tone, Malfoy asked, "Do you want me to engage in intercourse with you? Answer me truthfully, yes or no."

Harry wanted to shout 'NO!,' but knew that answer wouldn't be well received. Malfoy would probably rather hear a 'yes.' On the other hand, he read him so easily, the likelihood of that lie being believed was slim. Also, a 'yes' might be taken as an invitation. Lucius said that he had no interest in boys, but maybe he had changed his mind and wanted to hear Harry say 'yes.' Either answer was problematic and could bring about Malfoy's wrath. Harry had to answer either way.

"No, sir." Harry braced himself for punishment. 

Malfoy chuckled. "I thought not." He added with affection, "I'm glad you didn't lie to me, Harry. Have a biscuit."

Feeling as though he was trapped in an out-of-control carnival ride, Harry picked a biscuit off of the salver that had been floated down to him. His fingers were trembling so hard, it nearly slipped and he had to clutch it in his fist. 

"I imagine you weren't fond of Severus's touch at the beginning, were you?" Malfoy asked in a conversational tone as the salver floated out of Harry's field of vision.

"No, sir," said Harry, holding the biscuit tightly. Why the fuck was Malfoy being so polite to him? It was worse than being tortured. He wanted to scream, 'Just hurt me!' The needles were better than this. 

"But you enjoy his touch now, don't you?"

"Yes, sir." Warmth spread across his face. 

The end of Malfoy's cane twirled. "Do you come when he fucks you?" 

It was not what Harry had ever expected to hear said in that even, cultured voice. He clenched his biscuit so hard it snapped. "Y-yes, sir."

"Eat your biscuit," Lucius said in a tone that was more suggestion than order. "I assure you, it isn't poisoned."

Harry forced himself to take a bite. His mouth was so dry, it was hard for him to swallow and it took him several tries before he could finally get it down. 

Malfoy twirled his cane lazily in his hand as he watched Harry eat. After a bit he spoke in the same creepy voice filled with fake affection, "If I had told you two months ago that you would enjoy sex with Severus would you have believed me?" 

"No, sir." Harry would've refused to believe it. He could hardly believe it now. 

Malfoy chuckled. "Trust me, Harry. If you can be made to enjoy being fucked by an ill-featured, greasy man such as Severus, then you can appreciate pain. After all, he was violent when he first took you and that hasn't stopped you from enjoying it now, has it? I am well-versed in the art of sadism. You will not be disappointed."

Harry couldn't breathe. He knew that it was true that he never would've freely chosen to have sex with Snape if left to his own judgement. He used to hate Snape more than anyone else in the world; more than Voldemort at times. Now, he loved being fucked by Snape. He had even requested it. He had been twisted into regarding sex with Snape as a pleasure rather than a punishment. If he could enjoy sex with Snape, his rapist, then he could enjoy being tortured by Malfoy. His stomach rolled and he swallowed back down his bile.

Malfoy pulled a small, golden vial from his robes. "I don't suppose you know what this is, Harry?"

"No, sir," Harry managed to say, wanting nothing more than to curl up in a ball and hide behind his mental walls. He couldn't do this. 

"This is Mullerian Potion. It will change a grown male into a female. A sterile female to be sure, but with functional genitalia. I imagine you will be quite amusing as a girl, Harry," Lucius said with a predatory purr to his voice. "I know that Severus was rather rough when he took your virginity. You needn't worry." He ran a finger down the side of Harry's right jaw. "The second loss will be less traumatic."

He was so cold, so frozen, his heart and his lungs seemed to have stopped working. He screwed his eyes shut and threw up his walls, retreating behind them. Please. Please. He didn't know who or what he was begging, all he knew was that he needed to get away from Malfoy. It couldn't be true. Snape wouldn't let Malfoy do that to him. He'd never survive it. He'd rather die than spend even one day as Lucius's slave. 

Malfoy didn't stop and Harry couldn't block him out. " _I_ would never defile myself with a half-breed. Once you have been trained and earned the privilege, I'll allow you to service my allies. Perhaps I'll even take you to Hogwarts and allow the Slytherins to make use of you." 

_No more_. Where was Snape? Harry could do nothing but keep his eyes shut and wish Malfoy away. 

"Hopefully you will be attractive as a female," mused Malfoy in a tone that would've been playful on anyone else. "If not, there are ways of repairing your flaws. Go stand before the bars of your cage facing outwards with your legs and arms stretched apart."

With shaking limbs, feeling as though he was about to pass out any second, Harry did as commanded. He clutched the bars for support as he spread his limbs in the shape of an X. No sooner had he done so when he felt bonds wrap him securely in place. He closed his eyes, rested his head against the bars, and prayed.

When Malfoy touched his back, he jumped. Lucius laughed; a low, deep sound that betrayed his enjoyment. "Don't be so tense, Harry, you will injure yourself." 

The click of a box opening sent Harry's thoughts shooting toward the needles Malfoy had used during the first torture session. Relief flooded through him, making his knees sag against the bars. If Malfoy hurt him, Voldemort would punish him. Snape would step in and save him. He couldn't wait to feel the pain of the needles.

Malfoy smeared something wet and gooey into Harry's back. Whatever it was, it sent a tingling feeling into Harry's skin, as though his back had fallen asleep. "We can't have you feeling pain, can we? Do let me know if anything I do should cause you discomfort. You will tell me if you should experience pain, won't you?"

To have that last bit of hope stripped away from him hurt more than the needles or Cruciatus ever had. Harry whispered, "Yes, sir." 

"Good boy." 

After Harry's back had been covered in the goo, he felt Malfoy press a hooked needle into his lower back to the right of his spine just above the curve of his buttocks. It didn't hurt, but the sensation of it sliding into his flesh unnerved him. He could feel it moving beneath the surface and then piercing upwards, lifting up his skin before breaking through. He clenched the bars in his hands and wished for Snape. Malfoy left the needle inside of him, selected another one, and repeated the action on the other side of his spine. 

Harry wanted to bite his tongue to cause himself pain despite his promise, but he suspected that Malfoy would instantly catch onto the ruse and he couldn't afford to give up his cover at this point. A third needle pressed into his skin and he bit back a sob that rose up in his throat. It didn't hurt, but the helplessness, the fear, the frustration, the hate all overwhelmed him and left him hollow inside. He needed Snape and he hated himself for needing Snape, wanting him, desiring him. He was weak, helpless to do anything about Lucius other than submit. He couldn't fight Malfoy without revealing himself, and he couldn't reveal himself without endangering their plans. His eyes burned hot, but he savagely pushed away his negative emotions and focused on the fact that Snape would soon have mastery of the Elder Wand. Although what a fat lot of good that would do them since they didn't even have the bloody Wand in their possession and probably never would.

With each slide of the needles in and out of his flesh, he grasped the bars, afraid of pain even as he wished for it. He lost track of how many needles Lucius pierced him with, lining them in two neat vertical rows, one on each side of his spine. After what seemed like ages, Malfoy finally placed the last one, up near Harry's shoulder. A wisp of soft fabric crawled up his back and then Malfoy released his bonds.

"Turn around," ordered Lucius. 

His legs trembled and he could barely keep himself upright, but he obeyed, keeping his eyes on the floor. 

"Spread your arms." Harry spread his arms, holding them flat against the bars. The bonds returned, pinning him in place. He heard the clink of metal against metal as the right row of needles in his back pressed against a bar. It jolted the needles in his skin, an unnerving sensation with the lack of pain. A jar floated over to Malfoy from the table and he dipped the index finger of his right hand in it, pulling out a bright blue goo which he smeared over Harry's left nipple. If he wasn't going to rape him then why was he doing that? 

After he had completely covered Harry's nipple and areola in the tingly goo, Malfoy pinched the nipple, rolling the small nub between his fingers. Fear rooted Harry in place, preventing him from staring at anything but the floor as his nipple stiffened in Lucius's fingers. Malfoy's right hand disappeared from Harry's view and when it returned, it held a curved, silver needle. The needle was about as long as Harry's index finger and nearly circular. Harry tensed, knowing what Malfoy planned to do with that needle. He did not disappoint. With slow precision, he pierced Harry's nipple, pushing the needle through the delicate bit of flesh. Harry wanted to scream, but he forced himself to remain passive, closing his eyes again. 

"Look at it."

Harry opened his eyes and glanced down in time to see Lucius withdraw his hand, leaving the needle stuck in Harry's nipple. He tweaked it lightly, causing a strange pulse of indescribable feeling from what should've been a painful sensation. Malfoy waved his hand and the ends of the needle came together and sealed, forming a perfect ring. Harry realised he wore matching rings in rows down his back. How many more did Malfoy plan to stick in his flesh?

"So beautiful, don't you think?" Malfoy hooked the ring with his finger and tugged on it lightly. Harry gasped even though it didn't hurt. "So many possibilities. I've heard that female nipples are more sensitive than male ones. You will have to inform me if that rumour is true." 

Harry couldn't help the whimper that escaped past his lips. Malfoy chuckled and released the ring. He dipped his finger in the salve again, smearing it on Harry's right nipple. 

The library door opened and the welcome padded step of Snape's boots against the tile soared Harry's spirits. He tilted his head towards Snape, trying to catch a glimpse of the black robes.

"What is it now, Severus?" asked Malfoy in a bored voice.

"I am finished with your son's lessons," answered Snape in an equally bored voice as he stepped in through the bars. His face turned towards Harry. Harry dropped his eyes. 

"So soon?" queried Malfoy.

"I have other duties to which I must attend. I trust he will be available for his lessons next week?" Snape paused before Malfoy, and Harry focused on the bottom of his robes, trying to mentally convey his desire to be freed from Lucius. 

"Of course." Malfoy returned his items to the box, the metal items clicking against each other. When he had tucked the last of the items away, he stepped over to Harry and tilted Harry's chin up. For one unguarded moment, Harry's eyes involuntarily met Malfoy's and the cunning and cruelty he saw there chilled him to the bone.

"I will see you in a week, Harry. I look forward to it." 

Harry averted his eyes, pressing himself back against the bars to get as far away from Malfoy as he possibly could. Lucius chuckled in amusement before sweeping off with Snape following close behind. Harry was left bound to the bars, but relief filled him when he heard the library door close behind them. There was the possibility that they could return any second, but he had the feeling that he was finished with Malfoy for the day. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to weep or laugh more, so he permitted himself neither. For several agonising minutes, he waited for Snape to return. 

When Snape finally opened the library door and stepped in through the bars to Harry’s cell, Harry wanted to scream at him. He had no idea whether the Malfoys had left or not, so he held his tongue. Snape released him from the bars with a flourish of his wand and Harry's legs gave out. He fell forward, caught smoothly by Snape who seemed impossibly strong. Harry wanted to melt into his robes and never let go. He wanted Snape to wrap his arms around him and promise to never let Malfoy touch him. He wanted Snape to fuck him and hold him and kiss him and he hated himself for that. Hated Snape for that, even though he knew that it wasn’t Snape’s fault. It was easier to be mad at Snape and to blame him than to acknowledge that he, Harry, had lost himself somewhere and didn't know if he would ever be himself again.

"To bed, so that I may repair your back." Snape led Harry the short distance and helped him onto the bed, laying him face down.

Harry allowed himself to be guided, too overwhelmed by his conflicting emotions to do anything else. When the first of the rings was removed, Harry winced and grabbed the bed sheets. The lack of pain made the sensation of the needles sliding through his skin worse somehow. 

"I am now the Master of the Elder Wand." Snape's voice betrayed his excitement. Harry wanted to punch him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" demanded Harry.

"I couldn't very well inform you of such matters in front-" Snape began to lecture as he pulled out another ring.

"No. Tell me about Lucius," hissed Harry. "I won't be his slave."

"You won't," said Snape. "You will be free before next week."

The knowledge should've cheered Harry, but he was too focused on the fact that Snape was yet again controlling every facet of his life. "You should've told me."

"I will tell you what I feel is necessary," said Snape testily as he yanked out a ring. "If I told you everything that was planned for you, you would be paralysed with worry."

"I have a right to know." Harry clenched the sheets as Snape began to pull out a ring.

"And what will you do with this knowledge? Our plan does not depend on whether Lucius should control you next week or not if you remain in this prison."

"I'm leaving here before next week," insisted Harry. "Bring me before Voldemort or I'll escape. I am _not_ going to be his slave."

"Stop being obtuse," said Snape as he yanked out two rings in rapid succession. "I've already told you I have no intention of handing you over to him."

"What happens if you get sick? What happens if you die? What happens if Voldemort orders you to go collect more potion ingredients? What happens-?"

"That won't happen." Snape removed the last ring and drizzled a potion over Harry's back. "Even if it should, you have been well-trained. You should be able to resist him by complying."

"He's going to make me enjoy torture!"

"If you enjoy it, then why the concern?" Snape said testily. 

Harry yanked his arm back, knocking Snape's hands away, and scrambled to the other edge of the bed. "BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO LIKE IT!" He slammed his fists against the wall. 

"Potter, calm down," Snape ordered in a cool tone, his dark eyes fixed on Harry's. "You'll hurt yourself."

"I'll blame it on Malfoy." Harry pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. 

Snape studied him, the line between his eyebrows dark. "Come here. You need your back bandaged."

"I'll do it myself."

"Don't be thick. You can't bandage your back."

He only ever heard insults from Snape, never compliments. To Snape, he would always be a stupid, whining child. He glared daggers at Snape and snarled, "I'll. Do. It. Myself."

Snape leaned across the bed to grab Harry's ankle and Harry kicked his hand away. Snape reached for him again, spitting out with impatience, "Come here, I can't heal you if you keep thrashing about." 

Harry kicked him again, harder. "Don’t touch me! I hate it when you touch me!" For a moment, something flashed deep in Snape's eyes. It was a look Harry had never seen before and it took him a moment to realise that he had hurt Snape. Harry regretted his words, because he knew they weren't true, but he wanted them to be true. He wished they were true.

Snape drew himself up to his full height and glared down his huge nose at Harry. His eyes were cold; his face a wall Harry could not penetrate. It was as if they had been suddenly transported back to the classroom at Hogwarts. Harry could not stand to be looked at like that and turned his head to face the wall. When Snape spoke, it was in the same tone he used to lecture disobedient pupils. "If you wish to sit here and wallow in your misery instead of training, I will not stand in your way. When you've decided to stop engaging in this infantile behaviour, strike your cuffs against the bars. If you will come to your senses quickly, there may be time for a contest today."

"I don't want a contest," said Harry. He expected Snape to start lecturing him again, but Snape said nothing. After a moment, he left, his footsteps measured. Part of Harry wanted to call after Snape, tell him he was sorry and not to leave. He wanted Snape to kiss him and stroke his back and assure him everything would be fine. Malfoy had been right; Harry could be made to want almost anything. He was so weak and helpless, so twisted by this prison that not only did he want Snape, he needed him. He buried his head in his knees, hugging himself tightly. 

~

He stayed there, wrapped in misery and pain until the call of nature propelled him out of bed and to the toilet. He finished his business and then washed his hands, splashing cold water on his face. The ring in his nipple moved when he walked and he hated the feel of it rubbing against his skin. He gripped it with the desire to rip it out, but he imagined that would cause him pain and he refused to endanger Snape. Harry reluctantly released it and trudged over to the bars. He didn't want to see Snape, but he wanted his dinner and, the more time he was stuck in his cell, the less time he was training. He rapped a manacle against the bars and returned to his bed to wait.

Harry wanted Snape to lecture him so that he could have an excuse to be angry at him, but when Snape entered, his eyes immediately went to the ring piercing Harry's nipple. 

"If I don't remove that soon, I will be unable to remove it without giving you a painkiller." Snape strode over to the bed, pausing before Harry. He reached down and pinched the hoop of the ring between his thumb and index finger. The movement of the circle of metal in the delicate bit of flesh sent a shiver through Harry and he bit his lip as he waited for Snape to extract it. Snape whispered a spell and the ends parted again, turning the ring from a continuous circle to a broken one with two pointed ends. Snape removed the ring with one swift twist of his fingers that made Harry jump in surprise.

"Ouch!" Harry cried, even though he was more startled than hurt.

Snape's brow furrowed. "Do you need a painkiller?"

"No, I'm fine." Harry closed his eyes. Something warm and wet touched his nipple and he glanced down to see Snape rubbing a potion into his skin. 

"Turn around so that I may examine your back." Snape dipped his fingers in a jar that was floating beside him. 

Harry turned around, kneeling on the bed. Snape examined Harry's wounds, pressing his fingers flat against Harry's ribs as he dabbed the potion into the holes.

"Tonight I will have to hurt you," Snape reminded him. Harry couldn't wait for it. Once Snape hurt him, he would hate it when Snape touched him. The scent of Snape wouldn't be arousing but would fill him with disgust the way it was meant to be.

"I realise this is not an ideal time for torture; however, the Dark Lord will arrive tomorrow and I must have a memory for him. I placed a mild aphrodisiac in your pumpkin juice in order to help you play your role." Snape paused and then added, "As always, if you say 'stop,' I will, but you must try to bear it as best you can."

"I can do it."

Snape silently healed Harry's back. When he was finished he stepped away from Harry and washed his hands in the sink. "Are you hungry?"

He wasn't, but he had the feeling he would feel even sicker after Snape was finished with him. Better to eat now when he could still keep down his food. "Yes."

Snape tapped the table twice with his wand, procuring dinner for Harry and tea for himself. Harry slid off the bed and into his chair, fixing his eyes on his meal which was composed of baked chicken breasts, green beans, and rice. He eyed the pumpkin juice warily before taking a sip. He ate without looking at Snape, his eyes on his food. 

When Harry was half-way through his meal, he asked without lifting his eyes from his plate, “How can I break out of my cuffs?”

After a short pause, Snape answered, “Destructive Dark Magic, cast directly at the cuffs. This method will also enable you to destroy chains or any other conjured item.”

“How Dark?” Harry asked as he raised his head. “Will a _Sectumsempra_ destroy it or do I need them to cast something like the Killing Curse?”

Snape watched Harry with a blank face. “The _Sectumsempra_ is sufficient. The magic must be Dark enough to result in the destruction or removal of your hand should you be careless enough to allow the spell to strike your wrist.” 

Harry waited, expecting Snape to add a line or two about how he was clumsy and/or stupid and Snape would be amazed if he managed to lose the cuffs instead of a hand, but Snape merely sipped his tea, his eyes fixed on the table. Harry was tempted to goad Snape into a fight in order to pretend that Snape's cruelty was due to his anger rather than because it was required by Voldemort. However, he was afraid that Snape would regard him as too undisciplined to perform properly and would refuse to perform until he had calmed himself. The last thing he wanted was to wait any longer for Snape to hurt him. Already the knowledge that, any minute now, Snape would turn what had been an enjoyable activity into one of torment was a terrible shadow between them. 

Harry welcomed the change. He would no longer want sex. He would no longer want Snape. 

 

[[ _The good times couldn't last for long. This is NoG after all!_ ]]


	50. Chapter 50

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

[[ _This is not a pretty chapter. One of my betas was too disturbed by it to finish reading it. Because of that, I've posted 51 right after, so those who want to skip it, can. It contains graphic descriptions of abuse which some readers may find disturbing._

 

By the time Harry finished his meal, the potion had yet to take effect.

“I don’t feel anything,” he informed Snape.

“You will,” said Snape in a neutral tone. “Now go sit on your bed.”

With a mixture of anticipation and dread, Harry retreated from his seat to the bed. He sat on the edge, his legs over the side and his eyes fixed on Snape. Snape cleared the dishes and then stepped over to Harry’s sink to examine his toiletries. After replenishing Harry’s mouthwash, Snape returned to Harry who shifted his gaze to the tile floor, impatient for Snape to begin.

Finally, Snape broke the silence with, “Are you scared of Lucius Malfoy?”

“Yes, Master,” admitted Harry. His fears were easier to confess when he could pretend that they were only spoken to appease Snape in this macabre play. 

“Do you wish to be protected from him?” asked Snape, his voice low and even. 

“Please, Master,” Harry let his desperation show in his voice. 

“Will you give yourself to me completely in exchange for my protection?” 

Harry wasn’t sure if Snape was acting or not, but at that moment he didn’t care either way. After all, it didn't matter what he wanted; Snape would get what he wanted in the end. “Yes, Master.” 

“I have a reward for you.” Snape’s voice was warm with affection.

“Yes, Master?” Many times Harry had envisioned what would happen between them when Snape finally indulged Voldemort’s wishes for sadism, but he had never pictured anything like this. He hated it. He wanted Snape to be evil and cruel so he could hate him. 

Snape stepped close and a tingle of magic encircled Harry's neck, quickly followed by a strip of leather. The collar tightened to fit securely around his throat, nearly choking him, and it took all of his self-control not to try to reach up and yank it off. 

“As long as you please me, I will protect and guide you.” Snape caressed Harry’s cheek. “But first, you need to be trained to please me. I have always been generous with pleasure, have I not?”

“Yes, Master.” This part was true. 

“Now, your pleasure shall come through mine. Please me and I shall please you in return. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master,” Harry repeated. This was better. If he no longer had pleasure during sex, he would no longer want it. He would hate it as he had before he had become twisted. 

“You must learn to rely on me completely. _Obscuro_!”

Harry’s vision went black and his heart pounded in his chest. The idea of being blind before a cruel Snape sent ice through his limbs. He swallowed hard, trying to bury his building fears. 

“Come here, slave.”

Harry unfolded his limbs and slid off the bed, crawling across the floor towards Snape. 

“Stop, turn around, and spread your cheeks for me.”

His face burning, Harry turned his back towards Snape and lowered his head and shoulders to the floor. He reached back and clutched his cheeks in his fingers, spreading them open and exposing his hole to Snape. He felt incredibly vulnerable, as if he had been flayed open, his skin peeled back for Snape to see inside of him. 

“Spread your legs,” said Snape. 

Harry shifted them apart.

“Farther,” growled Snape. 

Harry bit his lip as he complied with Snape’s order. The position was awkward and his legs shook as though he might fall over any second. The cleaning spell raced through him and he shut his useless eyes, hating his fear and embarrassment. He tried to relax his body. It would hurt if he was tense. 

Snape's finger brushed over his puckered entrance and a warm feeling tingled through him, sending pulses of electricity straight to his groin. He had drunk an aphrodisiac. He didn’t want this; his reaction was merely induced by the drug. It was a comforting thought as he slowly began to harden. 

" _This_ -" Snape tapped his finger against Harry's entrance "-belongs to me now. The Dark Lord has granted my request that only I be allowed access here." 

Harry wasn't sure how he was supposed to respond to that, so he said, "Thank you, Master." He was grateful that he would no longer have to worry about being sodomised, but with inventive perverts like Lucius, there were other ways he could be raped. Besides, knowing Lucius, he had probably purchased the sex-change potion after hearing the rule just so he could indirectly violate Snape's privilege.

Harry's thoughts fled from him when something cold and hard pressed up against his anus. He involuntarily gasped as something that definitely wasn’t Snape’s cock was pushed into him. Whatever it was, it was smaller than Snape and his body spread easily for it. As Snape shoved it in, Harry realised it was a ball of some sort. His anus spread wide and then closed around it again, swallowing it up. A second ball was attached to the first and Snape gave the device a twist as he languidly skewered Harry. 

The novel sensation sent thrilling shivers through his body which enjoyed the attention even though his mind couldn't stand it. A third joined the two already inside of him and then a fourth. Snape paused to twist the toy in half-circles, making him quiver and his dick fill. Finally, Snape pushed the toy in further, the smooth handle easier to take than the balls. Snape buried it in Harry to the hilt and released it. Without a command to move, Harry was forced to remain in the uncomfortable position, his face burning, as his body slowly pushed the toy back out until it caught on the ball nearest the handle.

“Come.” A tingle of magic near his voice box and a slight tug on his collar alerted him to the fact that Snape had conjured a leash. Harry released his arse and crawled after Snape, embarrassed by the object sticking out of his bum. It was strange to move with something partially buried in him. He hated it. Hated that Snape had used an object on him as if he were nothing more than an object himself. They had barely begun and already he wanted it to stop. 

Snape led him to the library. Harry crawled across the floor, trying to ignore the toy. He had reached the rug when Snape stopped tugging on the leash.

“Lie on your back,” Snape commanded. 

Harry carefully lay back on the rug, trying not to touch the thing inside of him.

“Spread your legs!” Snape barked in a tone that made Harry jump. “You must always spread your legs unless I give you a command to the contrary.”

“Yes, Master,” said Harry, because that seemed like a better thing to do than leap at Snape and punch him. He dutifully spread his legs, moving his feet towards his bum to get them wider apart. He left his hands at his sides, his fingers digging into the rug, because he had nowhere else to put them. He lay there, exposed and helpless for what seemed like ages before the familiar electrical tingling of a spell being cast rippled over him. The end of his leash rose up and brushed over his lips. He wasn’t sure what he should do with it; if he should lick it or open his mouth to suck it in, but then the leash moved on, slowly travelling down his chin to his sternum. It trailed down his torso, heading straight to his navel before it reversed its direction and veered off to the side to brush over a hard nipple. 

Harry gasped, giving in to the drug which multiplied each sensation. The leash teased the delicate nub, sliding back and forth over it until he was fully erect. With a maddeningly slow pace, the leather drifted across his chest to the other one, teasing it until he was gripping the rug tightly and trying to do everything he could not to touch himself. He had never wanted sex and despised it so much at the same time. The drug-controlled part of his body, his traitorous anatomy, wanted to beg Snape to fuck him. He wanted release. He wanted to be touched. He wanted to be fucked until he was screaming Snape’s name and coming all over the two of them. However, despite his desperate desires, a part of his brain still couldn’t accept what he wanted. He still didn’t want to be touched. He didn’t want to want Snape or how he made him feel. He was torn between desire and disgust. Need and hate. 

The leash trailed down his torso, tortuously avoiding his genitals to lightly stroke his thighs. He was making embarrassing whimpering noises, pleading equally in his head for Snape to stop and to continue. He was about to beg when the toy inside of him suddenly began to move and a jolt of pleasure surged through him so strongly that he almost came from that alone. The toy fucked him in the same slow, steady pace that Snape liked to use and he could do nothing but cry out in pleasure, his hips helplessly thrusting, trying to get more of the toy, more of the sensation so he could just come already and then Snape would come and this whole thing would be over. 

“Do you like being fucked with that?” Snape asked in a low voice.

“Yes, sir,” Harry panted, desperately trying to keep his hands at his sides.

“That isn’t enough for you though, is it?” 

“No, sir.” Frantically, Harry shook his head.

“You want my cock, don’t you?”

“Please, sir!” The quicker Snape got off, the sooner this would end. 

A tug on Harry’s leash pulled him up and he hurriedly crawled forward to bump into Snape’s trouser-clad legs. A hand pushed his head down and pressed his lips against Snape’s erect cock. Raw anger surged through him. Snape knew how much he hated giving head. Harry welcomed his anger, glad that Snape's actions helped stoke his rage towards the Potions Master. At this rate, he would no longer want to do anything sexual with Snape at all. Keeping his face carefully blank, he brought up his hands to wrap them around the shaft when Snape lightly boxed him on the side of the head. 

“I didn’t order you to use your hands. Put them behind your back, touching your elbows.”

What an arsehole. Snape sure wasn’t making this easy. Harry sat back on his haunches and folded his arms together behind his back. Ropes bound his arms together, and a firm grip on the back of his head pushed him back towards Snape’s crotch. He had just licked at Snape’s organ when the object inside of him began to move faster and he could hardly concentrate on the vile task he had before him when he was being fucked like that. He sucked Snape into his mouth and bobbed his head quickly, trying to focus on his work so that he could get Snape off, yet unable to do so when his body was so desperate for release. The toy brushed against his prostrate with each inward thrust and he couldn't hold back his muffled moans as he gagged on the thick prick in his mouth.

After far too long, Snape grabbed Harry’s hair and pulled him off. 

“I will need to train you in that art,” he commented, as if discussing a potions lesson. 

Harry couldn’t help the whimper that escaped him. He was desperate for release; he was ready to beg Snape to let him finish him off just so that he could orgasm. A tug on his leash pulled him to his feet and Snape dragged him back to his cell. He stumbled as he followed, off-balance with his arms tied behind his back and the toy pounding his arse. Snape roughly pushed him onto his bed and he would’ve fallen forward onto his mattress had not bonds materialised, snaking around his upper arms and his legs, holding him in place. The position left him bent over at an odd angle, his chest almost parallel to the bed but not quite. As soon as the bonds were released, he would pitch forward to land on his face. 

Before he had a chance to adjust to the odd position, a rope wrapped around the top of his scrotum and squeezed, pulling his balls away from his body. Snape ran his hand down Harry’s back, caressing the spine until he reached the toy which was still sliding in and out of Harry’s hole. Suddenly, the toy began to vibrate and Harry nearly jumped out of his skin as his whole body shook from the intense ecstasy that sent off fireworks in his blind eyes. He would’ve come had the rope not been holding his nuts away from his body.

“Please!” Harry managed to gasp out, “Please fuck me!” He wanted this over with as soon as possible.

Snape grabbed the toy and twisted it around before he slid it out. Harry gasped as his body clung to it. When it popped out of him, he nearly sobbed with relief. Now Snape had to fuck him. He had to, because Harry couldn't take much more. 

The firm, spongy head of Snape’s cock finally pressed up against his entrance. Harry wanted to beg him to hurry, but he forced himself to be submissive and pliant except for his arse which he pushed back against Snape’s cock. Snape slowly pushed his dick through the tight ring of muscles, moving so slowly, Harry thought he would die before he was filled. Then, Snape grabbed Harry’s hips and seated himself completely with one hard stroke. Harry yelped in surprise.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Snape growled as he fucked Harry with vicious but slow jerks of his hips.

“Yes, Master,” Harry half-sobbed, tightening around Snape to hurry him along.

Snape continued his achingly slow pace. “I bet you could come on my cock alone, couldn’t you?”

“I could, Master. Please fuck me hard, Master,” Harry gasped, trying to get Snape to finish. 

“You stupid slave,” Snape snarled. “What did I tell you? This is about my pleasure, not yours.” The collar around Harry’s neck tightened and Harry wheezed for breath. Snape relaxed the collar and whispered in Harry’s ear, “You only exist as a hole to be used as I see fit.”

Harry knew Snape didn’t mean it, but the words carved through him, straight to his heart which hurt so much it seemed to shatter into a million little pieces. His lungs burned, each breath painful. Stop. He wanted to scream it, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. The word died on his tongue, forbidden by that part of him that reminded him that if he said it, they would be forced to begin this again. He couldn’t go through it again. He had had enough of this horrible day and he just wanted it to be over. He barely managed to whisper, “Yes, Master.” 

“From now on, you need my permission to orgasm,” Snape continued in that same low, dangerous tone. He began to thrust harder, drawing louder moans from Harry’s throat. “You will only be permitted to touch yourself if I order you to.” 

Stop! _Stop_! He screamed it in his mind, unable to say it aloud. He had thought he wanted Snape to be cruel so he could hate him, but, despite it all, he couldn't truly hate Snape. He couldn't stop a part of himself from wanting him. He still wanted this day to end in Snape's arms while Snape stroked his back and held him tightly. Even as Snape raped him, he wanted, needed, to be comforted by him.

That knowledge was a far worse torture than anything Snape could do to his body.

Snape grabbed his hair and leaned forward to whisper. “And I don’t give you permission to orgasm today.” He released Harry’s hair with a vicious jerk of his hand.

At those words, something deep inside of Harry broke and he could no longer hold in his emotions. A sob broke from deep within his chest. He was helpless to prevent tears from spilling out from behind his tightly closed eyelids and pouring down his cheeks in warm, salty rivers. He hung his head in shame, trying to hide his lack of composure from Snape. He was so weak, so helpless, unable to control himself. He wasn’t sure of who he even was or what he wanted any longer. He was dying, parts of him being stripped away and destroyed forever. Soon he'd be nothing but a shell of his former self, alive but not really living.   
Snape’s breath grew quick and his hips jerked faster. He finally came, pounding Harry with harsh thrusts of his hips. Harry hung limply in his bonds as Snape took his pleasure. When Snape had finished orgasming, all the ropes binding and torturing Harry disappeared and Harry crumbled to the mattress. He curled up into a ball and buried his face in the sheets. He was still hard, his balls free of the ropes, but his arousal seemed a distant part of himself, as if it belonged to another person. 

There was a rustle of cloth as Snape dressed. A chair slid across the floor and then, after a _Finite Incantatem_ had restored Harry’s vision, Snape ordered, "Come to me."

Oh, yes, he was supposed to crawl back to Snape, wasn't he? That's what Voldemort wanted after all. Him crawling back to Snape after he had been abused. His body moved, pulled as if by some outside force, his limbs unfolding and dragging as he climbed off the bed and crawled across the floor to Snape. He paused before the chair Snape was sitting in and lowered his head to the floor.

"Lift your head." Snape's voice had less of a bite.

Unable to look at the man who had just hurt him, Harry pushed up his upper body, keeping his eyes on the floor.

Snape stroked his fingers through Harry's hair. "It pains me to hurt you."

His fingers were so soft; Harry wanted to lay his head in Snape's lap and be stroked all over. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, trying to stop the flood of tears that wanted to spill again.

"I do it, because I care about you." More soft strokes on his hair. "It is important that you learn to rely on me."

Unable to hold back his unending tears, Harry waited for the horrible session to be over as he sucked in air through his mouth, his nose too full of snot and tears to breathe through it anymore.

Snape bent down and kissed the top of Harry's head. He cast cleaning spells and then stood. "You are not permitted to touch yourself without my express permission ever again. Is that clear?”

Harry whispered, "Yes, Master," just wanting him to be gone. 

Snape strode out of the cell, his footsteps loud against the tiles.

As soon as Harry heard the library door close, he began to sob openly. Tears blinding his eyes, he dragged himself back to the bed. 

It was only a few seconds before the library door opened again, and Harry clamped down on his misery. He surreptitiously wiped the tears from his face, hiding it in the sheets. Snape walked over to stand by the edge of the bed, but Harry refused to uncurl from his ball or open his eyes to glance at the man who had just abused him so. 

The bed moved as Snape climbed onto it, but Harry was too exhausted to chase him off. A brush of magic at the back of his neck removed the leash and collar. Snape’s hands, covered in some warm potion, returned to Harry’s neck. Harry allowed himself to be moved as Snape covered his neck in the healing salve. Once Snape had finished coating Harry’s neck, he shifted down and pressed Harry’s left hip down to the bed, gently forcing him onto his back. At first, Harry resisted, not wanting to give Snape the satisfaction of control, but he was too tired to fight. He gave in, allowing himself to be manoeuvred, although he kept his eyes tightly closed and his face buried in the blankets. 

Snape’s hand closed around his penis right before his mouth sucked him in. Harry wanted to push him away, but it was harder to make him stop than let him continue, so he lay there, limp as a rag doll and just about as dead inside, while Snape’s mouth worked furiously over his cock. Snape did not try to tease him or coddle him; he simply sucked him with enough force to bruise. Harry welcomed it, thrusting up into that demanding mouth that seemed to be determined to pull out his very soul. 

Harry finally opened his eyes, blinking as the bright lights made his vision swim. He reached down and grabbed Snape’s hair, knowing that it drove the Potions Master crazy. He pulled on it hard, half-wanting Snape to get angry and refuse to continue, but Snape steadfastly bobbed his head over Harry’s shaft. Harry threw back his head, closed his eyes, and let himself have pleasure, giving into the mindless desire produced by the aphrodisiac. The waves overwhelmed him and he drifted off, losing himself in the ecstasy. It didn’t last long. He quickly came, his body shaking as if he had been struck by lightening while his semen shot down Snape’s throat. Throughout it all, he remained distant from his orgasm as if he were watching it happen to another person rather than experiencing it himself. Snape bobbed his head until Harry finished spurting and then gave Harry's dick a long slow lick before he released the softening organ from his wet mouth.

Releasing Snape's hair, Harry lay back against the bed, panting. Instead of feeling satisfied and content, the orgasm left him hollow inside, as if he had accidentally poured out an important part of himself. He had thought that he would feel triumphant once he stopped enjoying sex with Snape, but instead he felt empty and more alone than ever.


	51. Chapter 51

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

Harry lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling rather than at Snape. 

Snape nudged Harry over onto his side and ran his finger down the rows where Harry had been pierced. 

“Your skin should be completely healed before the night is over. However, your back muscles are horribly knotted. If you train while you are this tense, you will only injure yourself.” The bed moved as Snape left it. “Come with me.”

Harry had the feeling that refusal would just result in magic being used to force him, so he begrudgingly reopened his eyes and slid towards the end of the bed, looking at Snape’s chest rather than his face. Snape picked up his outer robe, which had been draped over Harry’s chair, and wrapped it around Harry’s shoulders. Harry clutched it closed gratefully, glancing up at Snape to see a soft look in his dark eyes. Snape turned away and strode towards the bars. 

Harry padded after him, not caring where they were going. Snape didn’t look back to see if Harry was following him, but when he reached the top of the stairs, he paused in the hallway, turning back towards Harry. 

“I suppose you’ll want a shower first.”

A nice hot shower to scrub away Lucius and Snape sounded like a very good idea. “Yeah.” Harry started to retreat down the stairs when Snape strode towards his bedroom door. He opened it, glancing back at Harry as he stepped inside. 

Although Harry had used Snape’s loo many times, he had never been in his bathtub, and he couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement over the prospect. He hated the feeling. He had got so used to his slavery that permission to use bathroom fixtures was now a privilege. He steadfastly strode after Snape as if he didn’t care either way. 

“Shall I Summon the bubble bath?” asked Snape.

"No," Harry answered, struck with the realisation of how stupid he had been to assume that the bubble bath was Snape’s. How much of Snape’s true self lay towards the side that thought to give him bubble baths so that he would at least have some semblance of privacy while bathing, and how much of Snape had enjoyed that violent sexual session that had almost been rape? Pushing the thoughts from his mind, Harry dropped Snape’s robe to the floor and climbed into the huge bathtub. He twisted the tap and adjusted the water until it was as hot as he could stand. Closing his eyes, he stepped into the stream, enjoying the fiery spray. 

Snape ignored Harry and stepped over to the sink where he began to brush his teeth as if he were trying to scrub them away.

Harry grabbed the soap and scrubbed himself down, pressing the bar hard against his skin as he tried to wash away what had just happened. He needed to be clean again. To feel himself again.

“Now that the Dark Lord regards you as broken," Snape said as he lathered up his face with shaving cream, "he has given permission for you to be brought from this place."

Harry waited for him to continue, not allowing himself to have hope.

“For weeks I have requested permission to bring you to Hogwarts so that I may resume my post as Headmaster, and the Dark Lord has finally acquiesced.”

Harry’s heart leapt. At Hogwarts, he could search for the Diadem. He could check on his former classmates and make sure they were okay. He could see Ginny.

Snape continued without lifting his eyes from the mirror. “Unfortunately, he has also decreed that you should be sent to Malfoy Manor for three days before joining me at Hogwarts. I have no intention of allowing Lucius or anyone else to take you from me. If I am forced to, I will give you a potion which realistically creates the appearance of death for several days at a time. This should give me enough time to search for the Elder Wand and the Diadem; after all-”

“Wait a minute,” Harry interjected. “What if they destroy my body?”

“They won’t,” Snape answered confidently as he flicked his razor in the sink. “The Dark Lord will be called to examine your body and, through an attempt to possess you, he will immediately uncover the ruse. When I am summoned, as Lucius will undoubtedly blame me, I will pronounce it similar to when you constructed your walls after you were tortured by the Dark Lord. I will advise them to simply leave you alone for a few days, after which you would recover with no ill effects. This plan does have its risks, which is why I would prefer to implement it only as a last re-"

"What if Lucius has the antidote? What if he calls someone who knows what it is? What if-" 

"He won't," Snape said. "Only I know of the existence of this potion. The worst that may happen is the destruction of your body, but the Dark Lord would be incredibly foolish to allow that without first examining the 'corpse.' I do not think it a likely course of action, and again, this is one plan of many. Instead-"

If it was a choice between death or being Lucius's slave, Harry would choose death. "Give it to me now. Tell him that after what happened today, I went into that state and you can't bring me out unless you brew a special potion. You can leave, find the Elder Wand and the Diadem, and return to help me kill him."

Snape turned his head to look at Harry, the razor paused in his hand. "You are supposed to be broken, not hiding. If-"

"IT'S NOT HIDING!" yelled Harry. He calmed himself and then continued, "I want this over. Why wait?"

"Because he may not let me leave on my own should anything happen to you in my presence," answered Snape in a low voice. "I cannot search properly if another Death Eater has been attached to my side and my every movement is tracked." He paused and then added in a softer voice, "Just wait a few more days and this will be over."

"I'm tired of waiting," Harry said, turning away from Snape and bending his head forward into the hot water. "I've been waiting too long."

"Soon you will leave." 

"Why am I even still here?" Harry whispered into the stream of water. "I need to get out of here. I can't stay here."

Snape gave no indication that he had heard. He left the bathroom, leaving the door open behind him.

Alone, Harry couldn't hold back his tears. He tilted back his head, letting the drips wash away in the hot water. He couldn't survive this. He didn't know how he had for so long, except by slowly killing parts of himself, every day. How much more of himself would he lose before he was freed? Even a few days seemed like ages; an eternity of tortures and pain which he no longer had the strength to endure. He needed to pull himself together. He needed to hang on for just a few more days. A week. He could do that. He had to.

When his tears were no longer mingling with the water, Harry stepped out of the shower. He grabbed one of Snape's thick towels and wrapped it around himself, drying his hair with another.

When he stepped into the bedroom, Snape said, "Come lie on my bed."

After what had happened, the last thing Harry wanted was to feel Snape's hands on his skin. He tightened his grip on his towel. "No. Give me the potion or whatever now and I'll return to my room."

"I need to massage it into your skin and my bed is the most comfortable surface in the house. If-"

"I don't want you to touch me," said Harry. "Just give me something to drink."

Snape's eyebrows drew in together. "I won't hurt you anymore tonight. I only want to heal you. I'll only be touching your back and your legs. I won't touch you anywhere else."

"What part of 'I don't want you to touch me' don't you understand?" Harry growled. "I'm leaving." He determinedly strode past Snape, his eyes fixed on the door. 

Snape grabbed Harry's arm. "Why didn't you tell me to stop?"

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Harry yanked his limb out of Snape's grasp and slammed his fist into his nose. Bones crunched between his fingers and Snape's face and Snape staggered backwards, covering his nose with his left hand while he yanked out his wand with his right. Harry shifted into attack mode, ready to dodge the first spell, his eyes fixed on Snape’s wand. Snape aimed the wand at his own nose. When he removed his hand, there was no trace of Harry's attack. The wand slid back into the robes and only then did Harry focus on Snape's face. 

Snape's dark eyes fixed on Harry. "Do you think this is easy?" he asked in a low, tense voice.

Harry laughed. The hollowness in his voice shocked him, but he couldn't keep the bitterness away. "You do it, don't you?"

Snape threw out his arms. "I've lived in his shadow for twenty-one years! Longer than you have been alive! You can't imagine what that's like!" 

Holding his towel closed, Harry jabbed an accusing finger at him. "You joined him! You chose this!"

"I didn't choose this! I never wanted this!"

"You chose to join him. What choice did I have? And this-" Harry slashed his arm, his rage so intense that he was momentarily unable to speak. "This is bullshit! You've never been raped. You've never been ordered to kill one of your friends-"

"I have been forced to kill friends," said Snape, his dark eyes emotionless. "And I did as ordered. I expect I will do it again."

"You're sick," spat Harry. "Disgusting. I can't _stand_ you. How many of your so-called friends have you killed? How many innocent people have died for you, you sick fuck?" 

Snape stood there, his arms limp at his side. In a low voice he said, "Potter-"

No more excuses. "Save it," said Harry. "I'm leaving. I don't want to be anywhere _near_ you." Clutching his towel, he marched towards the door.

Snape swept over to block his path. "I told you to tell me to stop if it was too much for you to handle," he said. "When you need help-"

"I don't need help!" said Harry, glaring daggers at Snape. "I did it, didn't I?! I did what you wanted! I-"

"I didn't want that!" insisted Snape with a scowl. "You should've said 'stop.' You should've-"

"I COULDN'T! If I had, then we would just have done it again and again until I got it right. I'd never get it right. I'd never... I'd never...." To his horror, Harry felt his eyes begin to burn and he closed them, trying to regain his composure.

"Merlin....." swore Snape. "That hasn't been true for some time -- think of the last session during which I fed you the potion. The reason I moved you between the rooms was so that we had stopping points to return to should you need to pause at any moment, so that I could make the transitions less detectable. If you had said 'stop', we wouldn't have had to return to the beginning. I never would have put you through that without giving you a way out."

Harry stared. He couldn’t believe he had suffered through that whole horrible ordeal when he could've stopped it at any moment. The knowledge was too much for him to handle and his knees went weak. For a moment, he thought he was going to tumble to the floor and he placed his left hand against the wall, leaning on it to support himself while he tried to get his breathing back to normal.

"I'm sorry," Snape said. "I should have made sure you knew."

Harry was so startled by the apology that he was almost tempted to make Snape repeat it just to hear it again, but instead he hissed, "You didn't. You didn't tell me anything." He lifted his eyes to gaze at Snape's face and detested the look of concern and caring he saw there.

"It's over," Snape continued in the same soft, soothing voice. "There is nothing we can do about it now. You must let me heal you so that you will be able to train for tomorrow."

"Just give me a potion," said Harry, shaking his head.

"None work as well as the kind I need to massage directly into your skin."

Narrowing his eyes, Harry said, "I'll do it myself.".

"You can't rub it into your back on your own. Let me help you."

"I'm going back to my room now," said Harry, meeting Snape's gaze defiantly as he walked forward, determined to fight Snape if need be.

Snape met Harry's gaze with a shrewd look in his eyes before he spoke. "What did Lucius say to you?"

"What?" The memory of Lucius stopped Harry short. He clutched the towel tightly around himself. 

"You were hostile towards me even before our performance," Snape pointed out, his dark eyes searching Harry's. "What did he say to you to cause this reaction?"

Harry looked away from him, staring at the thick carpet as unbidden memories of Lucius swam to the surface of his consciousness. "He said a lot of things."

"Such as?" prompted Snape.

"I don't want to talk about it."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "Afraid to admit how terrified you are of him?" 

Curling his hands into fists, Harry snarled, "Piss off."

"He lords his power over you, because _you_ let him!" said Snape.

"I SAID 'PISS OFF'!" 

"It's true...." said Snape, crossing his arms, "you all but hand it to him on a porcelain plate."

"I don't care what he thinks!" 

"Then stop giving him power!"

"I'm not!" said Harry, trying to push past him. 

"You are!" Snape grabbed Harry's upper arms and pinned him against the wall. "Whatever he said to you, you've accepted it as truth. Lucius is a master manipulator. He uses intimidation and the threat of pain to terrorise you and then spins his twisted logic until it becomes your reality. You've accepted whatever he told you as fact and have changed your behaviour according to his wishes. Do not allow him that power over you! Do not accept his propaganda as truth!" 

"He said that if I could enjoy being raped by a disgusting, hideous man like you, then I could enjoy being tortured by him," Harry spat out, just to see the look of hurt flash through Snape's eyes. 

Snape's fingers opened and he stepped back. His face smoothed over to his normal expressionless state and he stared at Harry quietly for a moment, his black eyes scanning over Harry's face as if searching for something. He finally asked, "Do you really believe that?"

Harry wanted to yell 'yes' and give Snape a taste of the pain Snape had just given him. He wanted to say 'no' and curl up in Snape's arms, letting Snape stroke him and kiss him and erase what had happened. "I don't know!" said Harry, his conflicting emotions tearing him to pieces. "I don't know what I want! I don't know who I am anymore." His legs gave out and he slid down the wall, burying his face in his arms. "How can I stop him from controlling me if he doesn't have to be here to do it? How can I even tell if he's controlling me? I just-"

"Potter," Snape interrupted. "When you stepped into the bathroom, you didn't attempt to close the door. Why?"

"You wouldn't let me."

"I couldn't," agreed Snape. "I know you. I know that as soon as that door were to close, you'd immediately search through the drawers and cabinets and try to steal things which would get me punished should you be caught in their vicinity. Lucius would seek to convince you that escape was hopeless and resistance would only lead to pain and punishment. If he took you to the shower, he would close the door and, as long as you believed his words, you would monitor yourself as if he were there, watching you. Lucius's power requires your complicity, your belief. With it, he can make you do or believe almost anything, but without it, he is powerless over you. Don't give him that power. Think critically about everything he tells you. Never stop seeking what you desire."

"How do I know what I really want?" asked Harry, lifting his head and meeting Snape's eyes. "How can I tell the difference between what I freely chose and what you've made me want?"

Snape sighed. "There is no easy answer to your question. The question of free will has been debated by philosophers for ages." He paused and then asked, "Have you chosen to fight the Dark Lord of your own free will?" 

"Yeah," nodded Harry. "I'm going to do anything I can to get rid of him, because I want to."

"Yet, did you really choose that fate or was it chosen for you?" pressed Snape. "If the prophecy didn’t exist, would you be so determined to give your life should his destruction require it? Would you be so willing to sacrifice your freedom and remain in this prison if you believed that you were one of several with the ability to destroy the Dark Lord, rather than the single prophesied Saviour?"

"I..." Harry wanted to say that he would, but as he thought about it, he couldn't be so sure. He would want Voldemort destroyed to be sure, he’d never not want that, but would he be so willing to give up his freedom and even his life? If Neville had been marked instead of him, would he have tried so hard, even with the death of his parents? His world was spinning and he placed his head in his hands. "I don't...."

"Potter," Snape said sharply, causing Harry to snap his head up to look at him. "I was merely playing devil's advocate to show how anyone as skilled as Lucius is can cause you to doubt even what you most firmly believe. You always have a choice. _Always_. I believe that you would maintain your current convictions simply because you've always been stupidly stubborn and far too much of a Gryffindor to be concerned with saving your own neck at the expense of others. When have you ever shown reason and self-preservation in your attempts to thwart the Dark Lord's plans? You were reckless at eleven and, despite my best attempts to change that, I don't believe that I've yet managed to instil in you a proper level of restraint and rationality." He paused and then added, "If anything, you need to learn that, despite what well-meaning fools have told you, the entire world doesn't rest on your shoulders. There is no point in sacrificing yourself needlessly. Especially for this world which has only sought to use you to fight its battles."

"But how do I know?" asked Harry, searching Snape's eyes for an answer. "How do I know I'm choosing what _I_ want?"

Snape's black eyes were fixed on his. "You don't," he said. "None of us ever do. There are precious few who even realise what it is that they really want and most individuals live far less complicated lives than yours. Furthermore, often what we choose isn’t what we really desire. You've decided that you wish to destroy the Dark Lord even at the expense of your own life, but you can't convince me that's where your heart's longing lies. You would've preferred a family of your own, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," Harry whispered, suddenly sad for the family he might never have; the simple choices that had been stripped from him the moment he had been marked. It was true that he was freely choosing to give his own life to destroy Voldemort if necessary, but it was also very true that it wasn't what he really wanted. What he wanted, more than anything else in the world, was to marry Ginny, work as an Auror, and have a family of his own. He remembered when Snape had pressed the cup of fake poison to his lips and asked him to decide between life and Voldemort. His answer remained unchanged, but, for the first time, he understood what he was really choosing. "Is it certain that I'll die?"

"No," Snape answered easily and with conviction. "You'll probably marry Miss Weasley and have a million brats just like you." It was clear from the tone of his voice that Snape thought that to be a curse rather than a blessing. Snape continued, "My only consolation for more Potters in this world is that I won't have to suffer through trying to teach them."

Harry couldn't help but smile. "I don't think I want more than two."

"Let me guess," said Snape dryly. "A boy named James and a girl named Lily?"

"Yeah," said Harry. "You wouldn't get a kick out of bossing around a James Potter?"

"I think I've suffered through enough Potters to last me a lifetime," sighed Snape as he stepped away from Harry and over to his bedside table. He removed his wand from his robes and tapped the table. A pot of tea appeared along with a cup and saucer. "Tea?" he asked as he poured a cup.

"Yeah, thanks." Harry climbed to his feet and, holding the towel in place, walked over to sit on the bed. 

“Wait.” Snape stopped him with an outstretched hand. He strode over to his cupboard and opened the door. Harry watched him curiously, but Snape’s back was to him and he just looked like a large blot of black doing something with black pieces of clothing. After a short bit, he turned around and approached Harry again, carrying black cloth. 

“Your towel is damp,” Snape explained as he pressed the pieces of clothing into Harry’s hand. Harry didn’t understand why he didn’t just use a spell to dry the bed covers, but he preferred clothing to a towel, so he pulled on the black T-shirt and pyjama bottoms which had been cut short so that they stopped just above his knees. Once dressed, he accepted the cup and saucer from Snape who sent the towel back into the bathroom before Summoning a cup and saucer for himself. 

Harry sat down on the bed, surprised when he sank further than he expected into the amazingly soft covers. He had never been in a bed that luxurious before and he noted Snape watching him apprehensively, as if worried that he would spill his tea all over the bed covers. Harry placed the saucer on his lap and clutched the cup tightly to reassure both of them that he wouldn’t spill it. He enjoyed the feeling of warmth that soaked into his fingers as he took a sip of the slightly bitter tea. 

Snape poured his own cup and then took the chair by his writing desk. He was far less graceful than Lucius in everything he did. Although he had his own elegance, the way he held his tea was more casual than the refined grace of the blond wizard and he had the annoying habit of lightly licking his lips with every fifth sip or so. His hair was stringy and unkempt and, even though he had finally learned to use shampoo, still a little greasy. Although he no longer wore the permanent sneer that had always been etched into his face around Harry, the lines of his face were still sharp and harsh as if he had been cut from unyielding stone. His huge hooked nose served to make what would have been a tolerable face downright ugly. His body, currently hidden under layers and layers of clothing, was only slightly better. Harry supposed it wouldn't have been so bad had it not been covered with discoloured scars and marks that marred his pale skin. Severus Snape was definitely an ugly man. He would never be called sexy or handsome by anyone except the most generous of souls trying to be charitable. 

As his nearly complete opposite, Lucius was far more cultured, handsome, and graceful than any other wizard Harry had ever met. If any one of the two should be attractive to Harry, it should be Lucius, but there was something disgusting and foul about the blond wizard that left Harry feeling unclean, as if he had just waded through raw sewage every time they had interacted. 

It didn't make sense the way Harry wanted Snape's affection. The way he still wanted Snape to touch him even after what had just happened between them. It was almost as if he had fallen in love with Snape, but that didn’t make any sense, because he didn’t find Snape attractive at all, and he was pretty sure that you had to be attracted to another person before you could fall in love with them. 

“Does it bother you?” Harry asked, causing Snape’s black eyes to dart up from where they had been fixed on his cup. “That you’re forced to have gay sex? I mean, you’re straight, right?”

“While I have an inordinate fondness for large breasts-” Snape began, causing Harry to choke on his tea. Harry sputtered, trying to catch himself while Snape frowned at him, his eyes fixed on Harry’s shaking teacup with apprehension. Harry recovered himself and finished off the remaining liquid quickly. 

“I’m fine, thanks,” he assured Snape as he set the saucer and teacup down on the bedside table. “Large breasts?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow at his former Professor.

“Yes,” Snape nodded seriously and continued in the same business-like tone as if they were discussing potions ingredients. “Some men say that more than a mouthful or a handful is a waste; however, I beg to differ. There are few things as enjoyable in this world as fondling a large-breasted woman.”

“I dunno, I’m fine with smaller ones,” said Harry, thinking of Ginny. Once she had let him stick his hand up under her blouse and he still remembered with excitement how they had felt: soft and supple and- He quickly shut off that train of thought before it took him places he didn’t want to go in front of Snape.

"Madam Rosmerta's tits have never interested you?" asked Snape with raised eyebrows.

Harry coloured, disbelieving that he was having this conversation with Snape. "I’ve always preferred-" Harry racked his brains, trying to think of a woman to use as an example, as he didn't think he should mention a classmate to Snape. "-girls like Dulcinea, the black-haired Honeyduke's assistant." Too late he remembered that she had only been two years before him.

"Miss Turron? She's completely flat."

"She's not flat," Harry argued. Ginny's breasts were similar in size. "I like them smaller anyway. Madam Rosmerta's are kinda... big." 

"She's perfect," insisted Snape. "When the girls your age begin to fill out, you'll come to enjoy them more."

"I enjoy them fine now!" Harry blurted out before he could stop himself. 

“I’ve never understood the appreciation many men seem to have for girls of your age,” Snape confided with a hint of scorn to his voice. “In addition to the general stupidity and lack of maturity that follows youth, girls are best once they develop into women and no longer possess the flat chests and skinny hips and legs of a fourteen-year-old boy. Once you are older and develop some stamina, you’ll appreciate extra ‘cushioning,’ so to speak.” 

“I have stamina now,” Harry protested. “I just don’t see the point in waiting for one orgasm when I can have several instead.”

“Youth is wasted on the young,*” Snape said with a shake of his head before he took another sip of tea.

Harry wasn’t sure what Snape meant, but before he could ask, Snape stood, placing his empty cup on the bedside table. 

“Lie down on your side so that I can massage your calves,” Snape instructed as he produced a wide, flat jar from his robes.

Harry lay with his head on the incredibly soft pillow and his legs curled under himself. Snape sat down on the bed by Harry's feet and gently picked up Harry’s left leg, pulling it out and placing it over his lap. He smeared his hands in the substance from the jar and then placed his warmed hands on Harry’s leg, pressing his thumbs into the muscle.

“Ow!” Harry jumped, yanking his leg away. “Don’t squeeze so hard!”

“I’m not pressing any more firmly than I usually do,” insisted Snape as he lightly pulled Harry’s leg back onto his lap. “Your muscles are knotted. Tell me where it hurts.” Starting at the ankle, he slowly massaged his way up Harry’s leg, his fingers working methodically as the warm heat from the potion sank in.

“There,” Harry announced when the rubbing started to become painful. 

“Yes, I can feel it.” Snape’s hands roamed around the thickest part of Harry’s calf, lightly feeling the muscles. He placed both of his hands on Harry's leg and began to knead it.

"My muscles are in knots?” asked Harry as he relaxed against the sheets, pressing his head into the soft pillow. "How did that happen?"

"Not literally," explained Snape as his hands continued working Harry's leg. "Knots result from stress -- either physical or psychological. As the majority of your exercise stresses your back and legs, it is to be expected that most of your knots form in those areas. However, knots may also form independently of physical stress." He massaged it silently for several minutes before he released Harry's leg. "Now we need to let it rest. Give me your right leg."

Harry curled his left leg back up and stretched his right leg across Snape's lap. Snape gently pressed his fingers over the muscles.

"Right there," Harry noted when Snape's fingers began to probe a spot more sensitive than the others. .

"This is worse than the other," Snape commented as he explored Harry's calf. "You must be preferentially putting weight on it when you practise

"You're getting rid of the knot completely?" asked Harry.

"As much as I am able," said Snape as his fingers began to press harder. "It will reform unless you remember to stretch properly before you begin your exercising and always use the muscle potion afterwards."

After a short while, Snape released Harry's leg and said, “I’ll work on your back now.”

Harry, who had gotten quite relaxed in the soft sheets, reluctantly pushed himself up into a sitting position and stripped off his shirt, tossing it to the side. He lay back down, closing his eyes. He felt the bed shift as Snape moved to position himself by Harry's side. His potion-warmed hands gently touched Harry’s shoulders and began caressing the flesh.

“You’re tense here,” Snape noted softly as his hands explored the area between Harry’s neck and upper arms with feather-light touches. His hands drifted down Harry’s spine, sweeping outwards and then back in to the centre again. “You also have a knot here,” he tapped his finger to the left of Harry’s spinal column about halfway down his back. His hands returned to their light sweeping movements, stroking Harry softly. He ended his exploration just before the waist band of the bottoms Harry was wearing and his fingers left Harry’s back. When they returned again, they roamed over Harry's back, moving in wide circles and gradually pressing deeper.

It was so relaxing. Harry allowed himself to drift, lost in the softness of the bed and the gentle movements of Snape’s hands. The warmth of the potion and firm touch seemed to flow into his skin and seep through to his bones, working out the tensions of his muscles. Every time Snape's wandering hands returned to his shoulders, it hurt less and less even though he could tell Snape’s fingers were pushing harder into the muscles. He hadn’t realised how tense his body had been, but now he could feel the tightness slipping away. His limbs felt like water and he didn’t think he’d be able to stand if he tried to get off the bed.

“Did you make this potion yourself?” Harry mumbled into the pillow.

“I modified an existing potion,” Snape explained as he began to really dig into the knot near the middle of Harry’s back. “When Avery gained control of you, I purchased a few books on sports medicine after realising I knew very little about the subject….”

As Snape droned on about the very boring process by which he had developed the potion, Harry ignored the words, focusing just on the soothing touch of Snape's hands and the relaxing timbre of Snape’s voice. The soft rumble reminded him of distant summer storms and Harry was taken back to one of his fondest childhood memories when he had escaped from the Dursleys for a day and lain in a field, watching as a huge summer storm rolled in. He'd had to return home once the torrents of rain had begun, but Dudley had been too busy stomping worms and trying to catch frogs to bother him. Dudley hadn’t been able to actually catch any frogs, but Harry had grabbed nearly every one of those he had targeted. He imagined challenging Snape to a frog-catching contest, feeling quite certain that the Potions Master would have to cheat and use magic in order to catch as many as he had that one day.

Snape broke his monologue to say, “I’ll be using this potion on the rest of your legs and also your arms. I don’t expect to find any knots there, but I’d like to be sure. I won’t touch anything covered by your clothing.”

“That’s fine,” mumbled Harry, too relaxed to lift his head from the pillow.

Snape shifted down and lifted Harry’s left leg, placing it on his lap. His hands returned to the spot with the knot which barely hurt despite the fact that he was kneading it quite firmly. He massaged it for a bit before he began to work his way down towards Harry’s foot.

As Harry lay there and let Snape turn him into a puddle of mush, he knew Lucius was wrong. He had hated it when Snape had treated him roughly. It wasn’t the sex to which he had become addicted (although he did appreciate the mind-blowing orgasms) but this: the close intimacy shared between them. It was the way Snape protected him, cared for him, and guided him. It was possible Snape only saw him as a tool to be fixed when broken and everything Snape did to help him was carefully calculated and only undertaken as it benefited the Potions Master, but Harry refused to believe that was true. On some level, Snape cared for him, for him as a person. He felt it when Snape kissed him and he had seen it in Snape’s eyes when they fucked. 

Lucius only saw what was on the surface; the cold harsh lines of an ugly, greasy Death Eater. He didn’t know about the books, the contests, or the treacle tarts. It wasn’t Death Eater Snape who gave Harry pleasure, it was Professor Snape; the man whose hands were stained with potions instead of blood. The type of person who went out of his way not only to properly aid him, but also to try and make him happy as best he could without coddling him. Harry understood what that horrible session had been about. Snape had expected him to tell him 'stop' when it had become too rough. He had trusted and respected Harry enough to leave the decision to stop entirely with him. While he did think Snape to be at fault for not properly explaining that they'd be able to start the session over without beginning at the start, he realised now that he himself had also been responsible for his misery. He had been so focused on trying to hate Snape, he had allowed himself to be hurt. 

To test his theory, he opened his eyes and asked, "What would you have done if I couldn't have done it?"

"If you couldn't have performed?" Snape asked as his thumbs dug into the ball of Harry's left foot.

"Yes."

"I would've put you under the Imperius Curse if you'd preferred, and-"

"But I can fight that," Harry pointed out.

"I have a potion that allows me to cast it more effectively, but if you had agreed to it, I'd have expected for you to bear it willingly," said Snape as he pulled on the toes. "If you had been unable to do that, I'd have tried to think of an excuse for the Dark Lord and take my punishment. However, due to the risky position we are both in at this time, I would only engage in that method as a last resort." He paused and then asked, "Would you like me to take away the memory?"

"No," Harry closed his eyes, secretly pleased that Snape would take the Cruciatus Curse rather than force him into a painful situation. "If I get rid of my memories from whenever I get hurt, I'll never learn, will I?" 

"No," agreed Snape as he pulled on Harry's toes. 

A memory returned from a time that had almost been forgot. _I can’t give you what you want, but I'll give you what you need,_ Snape had said then and at the time it had made no sense, but now Harry understood. Snape had meant that he would give Harry what he needed to survive, but not what he really wanted. It wasn’t entirely true anymore though, for Snape had found a way to give him much of what he wanted as well. And right now what he wanted more than anything else in the world was sleep. 

 

*George Bernard Shaw  
[ _My betas had very mixed reviews of this chapter. Some of them said that it made the character of Snape clearer, others thought he became more confused..._ ]


	52. Chapter 52

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

"Wake up, Potter."

The soft voice stirred Harry from his blissful slumber and he drifted into wakefulness, opening his eyes to gaze at the fuzzy image of Snape, who was standing beside the bed. Even with his vision not yet fully recovered from sleep, the blindingly bright lights and stark walls told him he had been returned to his cell during the night.

He struggled to push himself up onto his elbows, but his body was slow to obey. He felt extremely relaxed, as though he'd had one hundred orgasms before falling asleep.

"Did you drug my tea?" he asked, as he finally managed to swing his legs over the side of the bed and stand, wobbling on his feet.

Snape stepped away to conjure breakfast. "No. Why?"

As Harry walked to his chair, his blood stirred and reawakened his body, washing the fog of sleepiness away. He was alert and awake, yet still far more relaxed than he could ever remember being since he'd been captured. "I feel brilliant."

Snape swept into his chair and picked up his tea cup. "I will examine you after you finish your meal, but I assume that the tightness has been worked out of your muscles."

Harry jumped up and down and shook out his limbs to test his reflexes. Despite his state of relaxation, his reaction time seemed to be as quick as ever. Satisfied that he'd be able to do a full day of training, he took his chair and buttered his toast.

"That potion is amazing. Why don't you give it to me every day?"

"It needs to be kneaded directly into the skin to be properly effective and I've not the time it requires. Besides, most of the relief comes from the massage rather than the potion itself."

Sometimes it seemed as though there wasn't anything Snape didn't know. "Where did you learn how to give massages? They don't teach it at Hogwarts, and I can't imagine Voldemort demanding an army of trained masseuses."

Snape's lips quirked. "Masseur," he corrected. "Masseuse is feminine. But no, the Dark Lord did not have me trained to be a masseur. I've learned some of the art in order to give myself massages for occasions when I cannot visit a parlour."

"Why don't you just develop a potion?"

"Most muscle relaxants, even those targeted to work only on certain muscles, have unpleasant side effects, and I prefer to restrict the number of potions that I imbibe in order to reduce complications. I've also found that forcing the muscles to relax unnaturally through potions or spells shortens the period of relief. Magic is not always the superior method, and massage is one of those arts in which I've found Muggles to be far more proficient and effective." Snape paused to sip his tea. After he'd set it down, he continued, "You've queried as to what I would do should I find myself free of this place one day. First, I would have a nice, long massage. You may think me skilled at the task, but that is simply because you have never been properly massaged. Hire a professional and you will feel the difference immediately. Nothing in this world is more relaxing."

The wistful tone in which he said it startled Harry. It was the first time he had ever heard Snape express any sort of longing.

"He won't let you call in a masseur?"

"Even if I were to convince him of the superiority of a Muggle method, the masseur would be murdered after he'd fulfilled his function." Snape shook his head. "I've cast the Imperius Curse on some of my young Death Eater apprentices so that they may work on my back, but I've found that giving oneself a decent massage is near impossible to do, even with the aid of magic."

"What about-" Harry cut himself short, realising that Snape must not have very close friends if he couldn't get a massage from any of the Death Eaters without forcing them. Pity stormed through him, and he found himself saying, "What about me?"

"You?" Snape's eyebrows drew together in confusion.

"Yeah, I could give you a massage." Even as he said it, he wondered at his words. Snape had basically raped him the night before, and he thought it would be some time before he allowed Snape to touch him outside of healing, much less offer to touch Snape. However, he felt no conflict or hesitation over his words. He wasn't sure why, but he wanted to do this. He needed to do this.

Snape shook his head. "That's unnecessary."

"No, I-" Harry tried to think of how to explain why he wanted to, but he didn't know himself exactly why he did. "I mean... we're in this together, you and me."

"I," corrected Snape automatically.

"And we both have to be at the peak of our health when we fight him. You are going to fight him with me, aren't you?"

"I will aid in whatever capacity is most beneficial to our cause."

"Then we both got to be ready. If I can't train properly when I'm tense, then neither can you."

"You have no knowledge-"

"So, you'll teach me," Harry said with quiet conviction. "Besides, girls like blokes who can give massages, don't they?"

Snape's expression relaxed and an almost-smile graced his lips. "They do." 

"If we are going to train later today then we should do this now." Harry finished off his pumpkin juice and stepped away from the table towards the sink.

"I agree." Snape stood up. "I'll return shortly." He strode from the room, shutting the bars behind him as he disappeared through the library door.

Harry rushed through his morning routine, then sat on the edge of the bed to wait for Snape. He idly plucked at a loose thread on his pillow case as he waited. Memories of the night before pushed at the edge of his consciousness, sending weights to his stomach. The feel of Snape's hands and his voice had been a source of pain and anguish as well as pleasure. The schizophrenic nature of Snape, of their entire relationship, left him confused as though he were adrift at sea in the middle of a violent hurricane. He needed to prove -- to himself more than to Snape -- that despite all that had happened between them, he still trusted the Potions Master.

Snape returned, striding into the room in a black cloud of robes. He began to undress, folding his clothes over the edge of the chair. His fingers flowed down his buttons and, with the aid of magic, he ended up with a bared torso in no time at all. Carrying the jar in his hand, he pressed it into Harry's hands before sliding onto the bed and stretching out face down on the mattress.

Clutching the jar, Harry shifted over to straddle Snape's hips. He had never been in this position before and a surge of power pulsed through him as he looked down. Snape lay with his eyes closed, his bare back exposed and open. There was something about the way Snape was lying, his arms folded beneath his head, that spoke of trust and even submission.

Now that Harry had Snape laid out beneath him, stretched across the bed, he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. He fumbled with the lid on the jar.

"First, use light strokes over the entire area you wish to massage," said Snape as though he were delivering potions instructions.

Harry nodded (even though Snape's eyes were closed) and smeared the potion over the other man's shoulders. He bent down so that he might better see Snape's pale skin and the scars that crisscrossed his back. It had been a while since he had seen Snape's back up close, and he had forgotten how marred the surface was. He ran his fingers along the lines that zigzagged wildly in no discernible patterns. He traced their shapes, trying to make sense of them, but only one, a large, faint scar on Snape's upper shoulder that Harry noticed with his fingers more than his eyes, seemed to have a shape: that of a boot.

"The Dark Lord," Snape answered the unasked question. "When I returned to him after he took you to the graveyard. Most of them are from that time."

Harry continued his exploration, avoiding the scar Snape had received in his fight with the Order. He found an odd scar above Snape's left buttock that was the shape of a rectangle with one side missing.

"Belt buckle," explained Snape in the same nonchalant tone. "From my father before I learned healing spells."

"Why didn't your mum heal it?" asked Harry, appalled.

"She was at hospital."

Harry didn't need to ask why Snape's mother had been at hospital. His fingers drifted to the large wide scar he had tried to heal earlier. Upon touching the crinkled flesh, his resolve broke, and he no longer fought his impulse to stroke it.

"Who gave you this?" he asked as he rubbed his hand up and down the length of it.

"My back was turned, but I believe it was Kingsley."

Harry couldn't help but admire the scar, secretly enjoying the sight of it. The starkness of the other scars made him shiver as he thought of how powerful and dark the magic must've been to prevent Snape from healing them. It wasn't as though he wanted Snape to be hurt, but the fresh scar that overlaid all the others, the biggest and deepest of them all, was a mark of Snape's devotion to him. Snape had received it trying to fight his way back to him, to protect him from Avery. How many more would Snape take to protect him? How far would he go?

Harry's left hand drifted up to finger the scar on his forehead given to him when his mother died to protect him. It was the only one of that type he ever hoped to receive. He never wanted a scar from someone else's death to protect him, but he would take as many scars as it took to protect Snape and his other loved ones.

"When you give a massage," Snape said, snapping Harry back to the task before him, "you must not press down on the spine."

"Right," acknowledged Harry as he placed his hands right below Snape's shoulders and pressed his palms against Snape's back as Snape had done to him. "Like this?" He tried to replicate Snape's actions as best he could. Snape's muscles were a wall of steel that barely gave way to Harry's pressure.

"Harder."

Harry pushed harder as he massaged the flesh as best he could.

"Harder, put your weight into it."

Harry leaned forward as if he were doing push-ups off Snape's back.

Snape gave a grunt of appreciation.

Harry knew he wasn't light. "That doesn't hurt?"

"It does, but only as it should," said Snape with more bliss than pain in his voice. "Now, move down the sides of my spine."

Harry obeyed, pushing hard on either side of Snape's spine as he worked his hands down to the small of Snape's back. The earlier feeling of dominance slipped away from him as he focused on trying to give Snape the best massage he could. Each noise of appreciation from Snape's throat drove him forward, and he quickly discovered that Snape liked it hard and deep rather than soft and gentle. As he pressed into a spot like stone, Snape inhaled in a sharp hiss. 

"There, right there. Do you feel the knot? That's the worst of them."

Snape's whole back seemed to be one giant knot, but as Harry explored the area with his fingers, he could feel where the stone melted into softer flesh. Harry smeared more of the potion over his hands and set to work, massaging around the edges of the knot before he methodically kneaded his way in.

He concentrated hard on the area, trying to work away the tightness, but after several minutes, nothing had happened. "I don't feel any change."

"That's fine," said Snape lazily. "Move onto a different section."

Harry worked his way back up towards Snape's shoulders, this time trying to find all the knots. "You have them here," he announced, running his fingers up the knots which ran down the sides of Snape's spine. He could feel them now, like chords buried under the skin. "And here." He touched a hard area to the left of Snape's spine near his armpit.

"No, that's my shoulder blade." Snape's left hand sneaked back and grabbed Harry's wrist. "Feel the bone beneath my skin?" He rubbed Harry's fingers over the bone. "Now feel the knot." He pushed Harry's hand over to where the chorded knot lay. "Can you tell the difference?"

The knot moved like a rope laid over muscles, but the bone did not. "Yeah."

Snape released Harry's hand, and relaxed back against the bed.

Harry resumed his massage after smearing more of the potion on Snape's back.

"There's no need to smother me in it," Snape said. "A little bit goes a long way. Focus on the movement of your hands, rather than on the potion. Vary your strokes between hard and deep, and slow and soft."

Harry returned to the thick knot at the base of Snape's back and followed the instructions. It might've been his imagination, but he thought it was smaller than before. 

He hadn't been working on it for very long when Snape's eyes opened and he said, "If you don't begin your training now, we won't have time to do a whole session today."

Harry didn't mind continuing the massage but he did want to train, so he slid off Snape's back and headed to the sink to wash his hands. 

"What will I be working on today?"

"You will begin with dodging and aiming, since it is imperative that your skills in those two tasks always remain well-honed." Snape's clothes flew to him and snapped around him. Once he was finished, he motioned for Harry to follow and the two of them left the cellar.

The morning went quickly. Harry had become quite proficient at aiming while dodging and he'd hit all of the targets except for one by the time they paused for lunch. As usual, Snape chained him to the floor before leaving the room, although he also conjured a small table for Harry to eat off of when he returned.

"While I still believe my mail is monitored and delivered to a third location," said Snape, "I've become convinced that the primary reason Strix has been delaying in delivering my post is that she is caring for her offspring."

Harry nearly dropped the spoon with which he had been stirring his beef stew. "Strix has chicks?" 

"I believe so. I have not seen them myself, but I have been monitoring the directions of her flights compared to the addresses on my post. In the beginning, she seemed to fly in no discernible pattern, but lately, I've noticed she always departs for the eastern forest after I have given her food. I assume that she has been hunting rather than delivering my post efficiently."

"But you haven't seen any chicks? Wouldn't they be here, near the house?"

"No. She may have chosen to hide them in the forest. I cannot tell for certain unless I were to step outside the Bounds of Secrecy. I doubt the Dark Lord would take kindly to allowing me to go beyond the Bounds to search for some daft bird's brood, even if I so desired. We will have to wait until she brings her owlets to the house for any confirmation of my theory."

"Bounds of Secrecy?"

"As you have probably surmised, this location is not one which can be wandered into by foot. In fact, if I were to leave, I would not be able to simply turn around and walk back in. I would have to Apparate in to the Apparition point."

Blinking in surprise, Harry asked, "They let people just Apparate in here?" 

"You forget that one needs to know the exact location in order to Apparate and only a few are allowed to look at the enclosed room to which we Apparate."

"But, we went outside to go to your lab."

"Yes," said Snape, "only the Dark Lord and I are permitted to pass between my lab and the house. If I were forbidden, I could not properly collect my mail, and the house and the lab would have to be equally guarded. I may move to any location within the wards, which extend out over a fair bit of land in order to adequately hide the structures."

"So...." Harry mused as he tore off a chunk of roll and dipped it into his stew. "Even if someone were to have a device that allowed them to track my position, they wouldn't be able to get into the house. What would they see?"

"A field," answered Snape, watching Harry closely. "A field that, when travelled across, is shorter than it appears to be." After a pause, he said, "I assume that question wasn't just asked out of curiosity."

Harry grinned at him. "It wasn't," he said and returned to his stew. If Snape kept secrets, then so would he. Snape didn't try to press the point although Harry could tell he was curious. Hopefully, Ron and Hermione hadn't used the Deluminator to try to track him down and rescue him, but it explained why he hadn't been freed if they had.

"The Dark Lord will be arriving tonight," Snape announced in a tone that was too causal for his words. "I do not know the exact hour of his arrival although I do know he plans a small dinner. We will not have time for a contest today, even if you were so inclined."

Harry did feel inclined, but he said nothing. "Can I stay in my cell?"

"May," Snape corrected. "Unfortunately, I am fairly certain the Dark Lord will require your presence tonight. I will keep you close to me until it's time for torture." At the look of dismay on Harry's face, Snape added, "This should be the last torture session you will have to endure."

"Who is it tonight?" Harry pushed away his empty bowl.

"I believe that Mulciber will be rewarded with his favour. You must not expect him to be gentle with you due to our relatively intimate acquaintance. He had a talent for cruelty at Hogwarts and it may only have improved since his visit to America."

There was something about the tone in Snape's voice that set Harry on edge. Harry had the feeling that Mulciber would be quite cruel indeed. However, he couldn't be worse than Lucius. No one could be worse than Lucius. If Harry had endured Lucius three times, then he could endure Mulciber once.

"I can do it," Harry assured Snape. "We're almost at the end, right?"

"You should be free of this prison soon," said Snape with a tight nod.

Harry grinned at him. "Let's train!" He jumped to his feet and tugged at the chain connecting his left cuff to the floor. "Why don't you try shooting Dark Magic close to me and I'll see if I can get it to hit the chain."

"Absolutely not," snapped Snape. "I will cast benign spells if you wish to practise that task." He flicked his wand and the chain left the floor and reappeared between Harry's manacles.

"I do." Harry held up his fists and watched the tip of Snape's wand. After spending so many weeks working on dodging, it wasn't that hard to get the spell to pass through the chains every time.

"Don't be so obvious, Potter," said Snape. "The element of surprise is one of the greatest weapons you own. Start from your slave position and don't move until you are required to."

Harry obediently returned to his knees and lowered his head to the floor. When Snape cast, he waited until he felt the spell approaching before leaping up and rolling to the side while he thrust the chain into the path of the spell. He missed by a hand span and cursed his luck.

"You moved too soon," criticised Snape. "Let the spell come to you."

Nodding, Harry knelt on the floor again. By the time Snape finally ended the exercise, he had no problem getting spells to hit the chain. His spirits were high as he followed Snape down to the bath.

"What is our escape plan?" asked Harry.

"I will explain the details closer to the date," said Snape as he took his chair. "Your behaviour may unconsciously change in anticipation of it should you know the signs and I would like you to appear as innocent of the proceedings as possible."

Harry clenched his fists. What more could he do to convince Snape he was ready? "I've been playing the slave for _months_ now. I know how to do it."

"We need to have the element of surprise. You've shown time and time again that you have the ability to react quickly to new situations. I have no doubt that you will be able to react appropriately when we begin. You have excellent instincts."

"All right." Compliments from Snape were so rare, Harry couldn't help but smile as he climbed into the shower. He was dying to know the plan, but he trusted Snape's judgement, and the last thing he wanted to do was cast suspicion on himself.

"Who do you think stole the Elder Wand?" Harry mused as he soaped his chest.

"I have a few leads," said Snape. "Hurry and finish your shower. I must prepare for my guests this evening."

Harry finished shampooing his hair and then turned off the water. He dried himself as he stepped out of the tub and walked over to Snape, who was already pouring some of the muscle potion into his hand. Harry turned around and rubbed the towel through his hair as Snape touched his shoulders.

Even though he had calmed down considerably since the night before, the touch of Snape's hands still sent a shiver through him as memories of the horrible session crowded his mind. He instinctively tensed, but forced himself to relax. There was no humiliation, no harsh words and, as the massage continued, it was easier and easier to let the stress drain from his body and enjoy the feel of Snape's hands sliding over his skin.

Snape rubbed the potion over Harry's neck then pulled his hands away. A wisp of leather and magic around Harry's neck announced the reappearance of the collar. Snape curled his fingers around Harry's upper arm. "Remember," he said in Harry's ear, his voice soft. "You are mine now. You have permission to refuse should anyone try to have sex with you."

"In any way?" asked Harry, taking a quick glance at Snape over his shoulder.

"Oral and anal," Snape announced as his hands slid down Harry's arms. "I don't intend to allow you out of my sight for the evening, so it should not become an issue."

Harry was now certain that Lucius had purchased the sex-change potion just to wiggle his slithery way outside the bounds of Snape's rules. Fucking bastard. Harry stepped away from Snape and picked up his towel. "Please don't let me out of your sight for one instance. They'll find loopholes in every rule you make."

"That they will," sighed Snape as he walked past Harry.

Harry followed Snape back to his cell.

Snape pulled out his wand. "I will set up the tone to alert you should anyone step into the library." He cast it into the same location as before and tucked his wand back in his robes before sweeping off.

Harry didn't feel like reading, but there wasn't much else he could do, and he didn't want to just sit there and wait to be tortured. He spread his towel down on the floor and retrieved Goethe's version of Faustus. It was just as boring and complex as the other, and he hadn't got very far when he heard the soft chime of a visitor. He slid the book under the mattress and then lay down on his bed, pretending to nap. 

The library door opened and he lay still on his side, controlling his breaths so that they were deep and even.

"Wake up," said a voice he couldn't quite place.

Opening his eyes, Harry sat up and sneaked a peak at Mulciber standing on the other side of the bars. Where was Snape? He would never leave him alone with a Death Eater if he could prevent it. Had something happened to him?

"Come here."

Harry left his bed, crawling over to the bars, which opened for him.

"Stand up."

When he stood, Mulciber reached forward to touch the collar around his neck. "Did you ask for this?"

"Yes, sir."

"He's really got you brainwashed, hasn't he?"

It was such an odd question to ask and Harry frowned, letting his confusion show on his face.

Apparently, Mulciber didn't expect an answer for he motioned for Harry to move back into his cell. Harry retreated to his bed, hoping that would be the end of the 'interview'. Instead, Mulciber walked into the cell and, with a wave of his hand, sent the table and all the chairs flying to one corner.

"Let's play a little game." 

Either Mulciber didn't think Snape would care what he was about to do, or Snape couldn't stop him. The latter could not be true. Snape would cross Hell to defend him. He had promised. Whatever Mulciber planned to do, Harry could take it. This was the last torture session. Let it begin so he could be finished with it.

As if sensing Harry's hurry, Mulciber created a glass coffin on the floor with a few flicks of his wand.

"Get inside."

Harry climbed into it and lay down with his arms by his side. As soon as he had settled himself, the walls shrunk, pinning him in place.

Mulciber knelt, grinning down at Harry wolfishly. "Are you afraid of spiders?" he asked.

"No, sir," Harry said, extremely glad that Ron wasn't in the room. He almost sighed with relief at the knowledge of what the torture would entail. He had got used to spiders after living in a cupboard for more than a decade and the feel of their legs dancing across his skin was more ticklish than terrifying. He could do this, it shouldn't be harder than dealing with the Cruciatus Curse at the absolute worst.

"Not yet anyway," mused Mulciber as he reached into his robes and produced a small black box. He held it in plain view of Harry's vision and enlarged it. Reaching in, he removed a spider as big as the palm of his hand. It was black, incredibly furry, and composed mostly of long, fuzzy legs.

"These are Phoneutria," he said with the same nasty grin. "From South America. Their venom sacs have been removed, although they will leave a nasty welt should they bite." He dropped the spider back into the box. "Now, don't move." He up-ended the box over Harry, sprinkling spiders into the glass coffin.

Harry closed his eyes, trying to will himself not to move as he felt furry little legs scurrying over every inch of exposed skin. Ron would be terrified to see him covered in spiders like this. Just thinking of Ron's horrified face almost sent a grin across his own, but he swallowed it back down, determined to pretend that it was the worst torture he had ever received. While it wasn't the worst, it wasn't exactly a picnic either. The spiders didn't scare him, but their fuzzy legs tickled him. One time, Dudley's friends had held him down and tickled him until his entire body ached from the convulsions. If he didn't get out of this box soon, it would be the same as then.

Shaking, squeezing his eyes and mouth shut, Harry pretended that each sensation of tickling was a sensation of terror, and he struggled in his tiny coffin. Barks of laughter burst from Mulciber as if he was watching the most hilarious thing he had ever seen. The more Harry struggled or showed signs of terror, the more enjoyment he expressed. Better to keep him entertained. Harry was just getting good at his fake closed-mouth screams of terror when Snape returned.

As Harry's eyes were closed, he didn't see the entrance, but the snarl was unmistakable. "What do you think you are doing?" The glass coffin and spiders disappeared. No longer having to worry about spider legs on his eyeballs, Harry opened his eyes, catching the pure fury on Snape's face before he glanced away. Snape hadn't looked that angry in ... well, a long time. If that rage had been directed at him, he would have expected to be cursed.

"I'm just having a laugh," protested Mulciber.

Yanking Harry to his feet, Snape's hands darted all over his skin as if knocking away invisible spiders. They'd long since vanished and Harry had never been permitted on his feet around Death Eaters. Was Snape about to blow their cover? Bowing his head, he brushed Snape's arm, trying to convey he was fine, there was no need to be upset on his behalf. If Snape didn't calm down, Mulciber might guess their true relationship.

Snape wasn't easily pacified. "Are you stupid? The-"

"I took the venom sacs out," said Mulciber as if Snape should´ve known. "They aren't poi-."

Whirling around, Snape shoved Harry behind him. Caught off guard by the violent thrust, Harry nearly fell over. He righted himself, and sneaked a glance at Snape's ramrod back. Although Mulciber was tall, a bit taller than Snape, the Potions Master somehow managed to tower over him. "They can still bite and the Dark Lord does not permit the slave to be hurt outside of his presence. You've been given the evening. If you want more time, talk to him. Don't _ever_ touch my slave outside of my presence again."

"Relax, Severus. I wasn't planning to fuck him. He's all yours. Come on, let's go back to your lab."

With a sweep of his hand, Snape motioned for Mulciber to precede him out of the cell. "Go, I'll catch up." Turning around, he asked Harry in a softer voice, "Were you bitten?"

"No, Master," said Harry, stroking Snape's arm to try to calm him.

"Not that you were aware of, anyway. A welt might develop later." From his robes, Snape produced a small blue vial. "Take this, just in case."

A sleep potion. There was no point in insisting on staying awake while Death Eaters were crawling around the house eager to torture him. After quaffing half of the bottle's contents, Harry retreated to the bed, his vision swirling as consciousness fell from him.

~

"Up." Someone was slapping his cheek. A huge black cloud hung over him. "Up." He was pulled to a kneeling position by a tug on his collar. Sleepiness drifted from him as he swayed on his knees.

"Bow before your betters," said Snape's voice from the giant dark shape.

Shaking his head to try and clear the fuzziness, Harry bowed and nearly fell off the bed.

Someone pushed Harry back onto the bed as Mulciber asked, "Have you ever been permitted to torture him at a party?" 

"Yes, when I'd earned the Dark Lord's favour," came Snape's reply.

"I should think you would continuously remain there. Have you not received the greatest of prizes?"

"I am a prisoner almost as much as he. Possession of him has been a curse as well as a blessing. However, the Dark Lord has been most generous to me. Now, my ownership will continue no matter the slave's guard as long as I remain in his favour."

"Ah, I heard that he's to be given to Malfoy."

"For a few days Malfoy will physically possess him," Snape confirmed, petting Harry's back in slow, relaxing circles. Harry melted into his touch. "Whilst I conduct errands the Dark Lord entrusts only to me. After that, I'll be permitted to take him everywhere."

"Everywhere?" Harry could hear the doubt he couldn't see.

"If the errands are successful."

"Be careful, Severus. The Dark Lord is rarely so generous without exacting a price."

"Soon, I will give him a gift beyond any other," explained Snape. "Come, the Dark Lord is expecting us. You should go to him now, before the others have gathered, and thank him for this gift in private."

"You're right. How is it that you are so much better at this than those of us born into it?" Without waiting for an answer, Mulciber hurried off.

Fingers tightened on the back of Harry's neck, and Snape whispered in his ear, "If you perform perfectly tonight, I'll give you a reward. There is one important thing to remember for the rest of this evening -- not everything will be as it appears." Puzzling over what Snape could possibly mean, Harry allowed himself to be pulled up to the throne room.

The sleeping potion still hadn't completely worn off by the time they paused before the throne. Harry kept Snape in the corner of his eye in order to determine when and which direction to bow.

Before long, Snape swept away without the tug on the leash to pull Harry with him. Curling his fists in his lap, Harry steadied himself.

"Thank you for this honour, my Lord." Mulciber's voice rang out in the throne room. "I have learnt a few things from our North American allies that I hope will entertain you."

In a darker voice, he ordered Harry, "Lie down on the floor."

Stretching out face down on the marble, Harry waited.

"This-" Mulciber announced to the crowd. "-is Wendigo Fire. From the witches of Labrador, Canada, it is a potion of cold so intense that it burns. Watch."

"One."

Lava, it was as hot as lava, dripped between his shoulder blades. Screaming, he rolled around, trying to brush the potion off as his skin melted away, the smell of burning flesh filling the room. Ropes appeared around his arms and legs, forcing him onto his stomach and pinning him to the floor as they spread his limbs.

Throwing up his walls, he retreated to safety behind them. Just when the intense fire of the drop had started to fade from unbearable agony to raw pain and he thought his technique was working, Mulciber said, "Two" and another drop hit his back below his right shoulder blade. A wild-fire of pain, as sharp and fierce as the first drop, surged through him. His back curled, nearly bending him in half as his body tried to escape even though he had consciously stopped struggling. 

He had to calm down. He had to ride it out. It couldn't last forever. Only a few more hours. Only a bit longer.

With slow precision, Mulciber waited until Harry's screaming had died to whimpers and he lay, unable to do anything but shake and sweat, before he let the third drop fall.

The pain nearly blacked him out, and when the agony finally receded enough for him to think, he couldn't believe he had any skin left on his back at all. Surely his back had been melted away and these drips were destroying his internal organs. The smell of his burnt flesh was thick in the room, and a very twisted part of his brain connected the smell to pork. He wouldn't survive four, much less more. He concentrated as hard as he could on his mental protections, trying to hide behind those walls as he had when Voldemort had tortured him. If he had done it once, then he could do it again.

When the fourth one hit, Harry couldn't scream anymore, his throat was too raw. The fire that stormed through him raged so fierce and so fast that it ripped away his consciousness and he fell into blissful darkness.

"Wake up." Someone was slapping his face. Pain returned to him, his back burning as if he were lying on a frying pan. His eyes screwed shut, he pretended to be sleeping. Someone grabbed him by the hair and forced his head into icy cold water. He held his breath as long as he could and tried to slip back into oblivion but he didn't know how to retreat into his mind on command, and he couldn't hold his breath for long.

Soon, he was flailing about, trying to push his head back above the water. Snape wouldn't let him drown, but the others might on accident. The hand released him and he gasped for breath. He hated his body for recovering so quickly but most of all, he hated them for dragging him back to consciousness. Burying his anger, he kept everything but fear and pain from his face. He knew that above all else, he must play his part to perfection.

"Move along to the next amusement," ordered Voldemort from the dais.

"As you wish my Lord," said Mulciber. "Since he is weaker than expected, I will rearrange the tasks in order to allow him time to rest. I've planned this next one just for him."

Harry just lay there and panted, too exhausted to care about Mulciber's plans.

A boot slammed into his side. "Sit up."

Fresh pain ripped through him as he pushed himself into a sitting position. How could Mulciber be so cruel? Wasn't he friends with Snape? Didn't he realise how much Snape prized his ownership of Harry? Snape wouldn't want his possession damaged. 

His head spinning from the pain, not knowing what he could do except try to hold on, Harry focused all his strength on remaining upright.

"They said that Harry Potter would save the world," Mulciber announced to the group of Death Eaters, all of whom laughed. "Let's see how much of a hero he still is." He removed something from his robes and walked a few paces away from Harry. Setting it down on the floor, he stepped closer to Harry, pointing his wand at the floor near the object. " _Asfixium_!" he cast, waving his wand around in a circle.

When he was finished, he called, "Bring in the girl!"

_Not everything will be what it appears_. Oh no, not another person who had been Polyjuiced to look like one of his friends. He was going to be sick. Even though he tried to stop himself, he couldn't help but sneak a glance at the blonde girl who was dragged into the room. Struggling, her long, skinny legs kicking from the bottom of a light blue sundress, she had to be pulled across the floor.

The shade of gold upon her head tugged no memories forth and when she was pulled close enough for his fuzzy eyes to make out her general features, a stab of joy pierced through him once he realised he didn't know her. That joy was soon replaced by guilt as he knew she would be dying one way or another, and this was no time to feel relief or joy. She was gagged and her eyes darted around the room in horror, falling on Harry as she was pulled closer to him. Another Death Eater walked in beside her, floating a large, covered rectangular container behind him. He sent it to the centre of the room and stepped back to join the other Death Eaters gathered in a half circle.

"Look at me," commanded Mulciber and Harry tore his eyes away from the struggling girl. "Over there-" He pointed to where the object had been placed. "-is the key."

The key? Harry didn't like where this was heading.

"You will need the key to open the tank," continued Mulciber.

A splash behind him made him whip his head around just in time to see that the girl had been thrown into a tank of water. She was flailing about, beating her fists against the glass. Oh god, no. This couldn't be happening. This had to be some sort of trick. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't just let her drown, but he was supposed to be broken. If he tried to get the key, they'd know he wasn't broken.

"Oi!" said Mulciber. "Why are you just sitting there? Time is ticking. She's going to drown unless you get that key. You want to save the filthy Muggle, don't you?"

Harry couldn't help it. Even though he knew he should never, ever let them do it, his eyes darted to Snape, seeking answers on how to behave. Snape gave a tight nod. That was all Harry needed to burst into action. He had to try to save her. He couldn't just let her die. Even though he suspected there was no way he'd ever be able to reach that key, he moved to climb to his feet. Searing pain surged through his back and his feet gave out, tumbling him to the floor, momentarily blinding him. No. He would do this. Shoving aside the agony in his back, he forced his dead-weight limbs to crawl across the room towards the key.

A body's length away from the key, Harry brushed up against a huge field of magic. He pushed his hand into what felt like an invisible, thick sheet of dough. He needed to pass through it to reach the key. Without a second thought, he slammed his other hand down into it and then, holding his breath, pushed forward with his head. It was like diving head first into liquid rubber. He crawled forward but the magic seemed to only get thicker around him, pressing into him on all sides.

The Death Eaters were laughing, a few jeering at him to crawl faster.

"She's dying!" one of them yelled at Harry.

The farther he dove into the field of magic, the worse and worse the pressure became, as if he were in a tunnel that was shrinking the closer he got towards the key. The weight of the magic crushed his chest, and pressed painfully hard on his damaged back, nearly holding him in place. Even if there had been air to pull into his lungs, he couldn't inflate them enough to breathe. He was going to suffocate! No, Snape wouldn't let them. He would save him.

With Snape at the front of his mind, he ripped free of the constricting web and gulped down air as he crawled to the key. When he reached the key, he expected it to burn his skin or be covered with invisible needles, but he had no choice, so he grabbed it anyway. Nothing happened. It was a key. The key in hand, he glanced at the girl to see her pounding her fists against the glass in the tank. How long could she live without oxygen? Probably not much longer. 

The Death Eaters were yelling but he ignored them, focusing only on the girl who was staring at him with wide, frightened eyes. His body was wracked with pain, his back on fire, but he barely felt it. He had the key. He might be able to do this. He might be able to actually save her. Filling his lungs, he gulped down air and then dove back into the suffocating web, forcing his limbs to swim through the molasses-like wall of magic. It was easier crawling out than crawling in and he quickly managed to free himself.

Finally, he reached the tank. With shaking hands, he shoved the key into the lock. He turned it.

Nothing happened.

The Death Eaters roared with laughter. It had all been a trick.

"It's upside down, you idiot!" yelled one of the Death Eaters. Harry pulled the key out and reinserted it. This time, when he turned the handle, something inside the lock clicked. A handle popped out. Harry climbed up onto his knees, gripped it tightly, and then let his legs give way, using the force of gravity to pull the handle down. The door of the tank flew open and the girl poured out with the force of the rushing water. When she landed, she flopped around, clawing at her neck. Too exhausted to do anything but pant, Harry watched as she flailed, the room filling with her strange-sounding screams. What was wrong with her? Why wasn't she breathing correctly?

"Let's take away the glamour," said Mulciber with sick glee. He waved his wand over the girl. Webs appeared between her fingers and gills in her neck.

They had given her Gillyweed. For a moment, Harry could do nothing but stare at the girl as she thrashed. Then, realising she was drowning for lack of water, he propelled himself across the room.

"WATER!" he yelled to her. "YOU NEED WATER!" He scooped up what he could in his hands and poured it over her neck but it didn't seem to be enough and she didn't understand. She kept batting his hands away, her nails leaving gouges in her neck as she tried to rip away her new lungs. Sticky, wet sounds burst from her mouth with each breath she attempted to suck in.

"Water," he sobbed, trying to collect water from the floor, but it had spread too thin and he could do nothing more than wet his hands in it. He glanced over at the tank and saw a thin layer at the bottom. He grabbed her to pull her towards it, but she clawed at his arms and kicked him. 

"You need water." He grabbed her again despite the welts she left on his skin. "You need to get in the water!" She refused to listen to him, shaking her head and pulling away from him as she screamed and kicked and slowly died.

He released her and struggled over to the tank. His body was in such agony, he was afraid that he would pass out again, but he forced himself to stay conscious. The girl let out a horrific wail behind him and he cupped the water tightly, but when he tried to cross the floor, his legs gave out and he fell, spilling the water all over the tiles. Fuck! Determinedly, he turned back to the tank and stuck in his head, gulping up a large mouthful of the brackish, foul-tasting water. His mouth and hands as full as possible, he crawled back to her. She lay still against the tiles, her eyes open wide.

No. No. No. She couldn't be dead. When he reached her, he poured the water into her gills, then spit the rest from his mouth. Still, she didn't move. He rubbed it in, trying to revive her. She didn't move. His hands fluttered to her chest, her neck, trying to find a heart beat. She had none. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't give her CPR if she had died from too much air.

He stared at her body. He had killed her. If he had left her in the tank, she would still be alive. The Death Eaters were laughing, but he could do nothing but sit there like a useless lump and watch as her once-blue eyes clouded over, her irises now nearly as dark as her pupils.

"Bad luck," Mulciber sneered. He cleared away the water with a wave of his wand. "Get rid of that," he ordered to his assistants, who strode over and picked up the girl, dumping her in the tank as if she were rubbish. They carted the tank out while Harry sat there. He had just killed a girl. She was dead and it was all his fault. He should've understood what Snape meant by ' _Not everything will be what it appears_.' He should've known they would do something like this. 

"And now, the next task. Bring me the cup."

He heard the words, but they made no sense. He could only think about the blonde girl he had just murdered.

"Chimera's tears!" crowed Mulciber. The throng of Death Eaters clapped eagerly.

"That wasn't cleared with me." Even in his fuzzy state, Snape's quiet voice pierced through the haze. The room went so still, for a moment, Harry thought a spell had been cast to cut off his hearing. None of the Death Eaters spoke or moved, all of them presumably just as shocked as Harry that Snape would step in during another man's turn for torture. Why was he interfering? He shouldn't try to help. Not this close to the end.

"Wh- Why-" stuttered Mulciber. "I don't see why it would be a problem. We've used it before."

"On Muggles," said Snape. "Not on him." Harry wanted to melt into the floor. They were so near the end, why was Snape making himself so conspicuous now?

"What's this?" shouted Bellatrix. "Trying to protect your little pet?"

"My Lord-" Snape's plea was cut off soon after it began.

"I appreciate your concern, Severus," said Voldemort in a voice which said everything to the contrary, "however, I don't feel that it will be a problem. Proceed, Sethlans."

Mulciber marched across the floor, reached down, grabbed Harry by the hair, and dragged him to his knees. Harry did not try to resist as Mulciber forced open his mouth and poured down his throat a thick concoction that tasted like sour milk.

He coughed and sputtered and choked, but did not dare spit out the potion. He was released and he crumbled to the floor, closing his eyes and praying for this to be the last of the 'entertainment.'

A drifting sensation fluttered through him, as though he had been port-keyed to a raft in the middle of the ocean. He opened his eyes to see the room floating, the blurry line of Death Eaters standing around the edge rolling against the white of the marble floor. Footsteps pounded like drums on his head as Mulciber approached, swaying back and forth as he walked, even though his legs were moving in a straight line.

Drugged. They'd given him some sort of drug.

"I put eggs in that drink," said Mulciber and Harry saw and felt them. There had been eggs, big black eggs he had had trouble swallowing. Now they were in his stomach; he could see them boiling around under his skin.

"Now they are going to hatch. Can you feel them? The snakes."

He could! They were bursting open, black wiggling snakes emerging from their shells. He had to get them out. He tore at his stomach with his hands. He had to rip it open!

"Restrain him!"

Giant clouds of black with faces of skulls appeared and pulled his limbs apart, holding them in place. The world rippled around him, shadows gathering above his head.

"They're in your brain! They're eating your brain!"

He screamed. He had to get them out of his head! They were wriggling, wriggling, wriggling. He slammed his head back against the marble. Searing, white-hot pain strummed through his head, but he didn't care. He tried to bash his head again, but the marble had been turned soft and he sank into the softness. The floor swallowed him whole and he was stuck there, buried underneath the tiles. His heart and breath stopped and his limbs refused to move. The floor was a wonderful place to be. Underneath the tiles, the Death Eaters couldn't hurt him.

And then his scar burst open and pain surged through him. He curled up in a ball and screamed. When he opened his eyes, he stood before the opened Chamber of Secrets.

"Kill for me," he whispered in Parseltongue. "Destroy the Mudbloods."

The colours swirled together like a child's painting and when everything made sense again, he found himself standing in the throne room, all the Death Eaters standing in a circle around him, although this time, he could see them clearly even though he wasn't wearing his glasses. He had lost his glasses somewhere. He needed his glasses. 

Voldemort stood on the dais, his hand outstretched to welcome Harry as black dripped from his hand and body to the pool of darkness beneath his feet.

Harry's body, seemingly of its own accord, strode towards Voldemort and he focused on his legs, trying to make them stop. He froze his right one and he tripped, falling. A big shadow swooped in to catch him and he fell into the darkness. Darkness was good. Night meant sleep. Sleep was wonderful. If he slept, they could not hurt him.

Thunder rolled around the room, vibrating deep into the pocket of blackness that held Harry tightly. He could feel something tugging on his arm, trying to pull him back towards the lights. He was safe here and he didn't want to return.

"Potter," Snape's voice whispered. "My Lord ... Potter."

Harry realised he was in Snape's arms and he blinked his eyes. "Snape."

"Drink the potion," Snape was saying. "It will heal you."

No. No potions. They needed to escape, they needed to fight Voldemort before he killed them both. "No. No."

"You must drink." Something pressed against his lips. Harry pressed his lips together and shook his head.

Magic surged through him and his arms shot straight to the side. Snape drove a knife through his gut. He gasped, the pain of the knife's entry sharp. The knife had gone all the way through his body, he could feel it sticking out the other side.

"You've killed me," Harry said to the shimmering clouds of white that surrounded him. Snitches darted all over the throne room but he could not catch them. He had no broom. Where was his broom?

Something cold and wet flowed into his stomach. His body drifted away as he floated up and up. Snape wrapped his arms around Harry, pulling him snugly back down to earth. There were people talking somewhere, but they didn't matter. No one else mattered.

As though he were waking from a dream, the blocks of ice in his mind melted and, upon realising what he had just said and done, he grabbed Snape. He had said 'Snape'. He had looked at him in front of Voldemort! No. Oh no!

Snape's arms slipped from him and Harry grabbed for his robes. "Please, don't go. Don't go. You can't go-!"

"Shh," said Snape softly. His magic and arms wrapped around Harry once more, lifting him up. "Go to sleep."

He couldn't sleep. If he slept, he would wake to find Snape gone, but the painkiller had been laced, and he was far too exhausted to fight it. The darkness overcame him. 

 

_Well, I hope it was worth the wait. As always, please review!_


	53. Chapter 53

Harry's eyes flew open. He could see nothing but muddled colours, as if he were looking at a watercolour painting through a dirty window. He tried to sit up, but his body refused to obey his commands to move.

"Snape," he croaked out into the fuzziness, shifting his head to try to make some sense of where he was. Suddenly, the horrors of the previous evening washed over him in vivid detail and his throat closed up. He'd been so stupid last night! How could he have said Snape's name in front of Voldemort?

"Snape! Snape!" he wheezed again and again, terrified there wouldn't be an answer; that he had given them away and Snape had been taken from him. Killed even, for his treachery, for stepping in to save him. 

A dark spot, like a giant blot of black ink, appeared and Harry lunged towards it, grabbing at the folds of fabric.

Hands pushed Harry away. "I am here. Go back to sleep." Snape's voice sent a shiver of happiness through Harry who tried to pull himself forward into the darkness that was Snape. Snape pushed him back down on the bed, his hands soft.

"Don't leave me."

Cool fingers stroked across the side of Harry's face. "Sleep now." 

"Don't leave me," Harry searched in the darkness, trying to clutch onto something more substantial than black cloth.

"I won't leave you." Snape pressed something cold and hard against Harry's lips. "Drink this."

Harry opened his mouth and allowed Snape to pour the sweet-tasting potion down his throat. When he finished swallowing the thick sedative, he closed his eyes and murmured, "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" asked Snape. "For what?" 

"I betrayed us," said Harry, the guilt so heavy inside of him he thought he would burst unless he spoke it. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't betray us," Snape said quietly, brushing Harry's fringe to the side. "You performed well."

"I'm sorry. I... I killed her."

"Stop it," Snape's sharp voice tore into the silence, hurting Harry's ears. "You didn't kill anyone."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. We will talk more when you have recovered. Now sleep."

"I should've ... should've left her in the tank." Sleep swept over him again and he drifted off.

"It wasn't your fault." Snape's voice sounded far away even though his hand still rested upon Harry's chest.

He had to struggle to get the words out, but still he said "I should've...." before finally drifting off into the blissfulness of sleep.

~

When Harry woke next, he had to take a leak. He tried lifting his legs but they refused to move as if they were under _Petrificus Totalus_. Unable to move his legs beyond an inch, he wiggled his way towards the edge of the bed and fell over the side. Luckily, he dragged along most of the blankets with him and the fall didn't hurt. Then again, nothing hurt. Not even his back. He tried to free himself from the tangle of blankets, but there was crimson everywhere and his hands had trouble grasping the sheets.

"You are your own worst enemy." Snape rescued Harry from the blankets, then scooped his hands under Harry's armpits to pull him up. "You need to rest."

"I need to use the loo," insisted Harry as he tried to pull away from Snape's arms towards the toilet.

Snape tightened his grip on Harry. "You need to sleep so that you will heal." His magic lifted Harry, an arm supporting Harry's shoulder and a hand slipping under his knees.

Harry warned him, "I'm either pissing in the toilet, on the bed, or on you."

"You should not be awake," Snape sighed as he carried Harry over to the loo. He set him down, but Harry's legs weren't strong enough to support him, and he fell forward before Snape caught him and propped him back up. He fumbled with his dick and Snape, with a grunt of impatience, grabbed his dick and directed it toward the toilet bowl.

"Ah...." Harry sighed with relief as he let loose a thick stream into the bowl. When he was finished, Snape carried him back to the bed.

Harry said, "I wanna train," as Snape arranged him on the mattress.

"I've given you enough tranquilisers to sedate a juvenile dragon. You should be dead, not trying to walk around."

"You tried to kill me?" Harry asked, perplexed as to why Snape would do such a thing.

"No, I tried to keep you unconscious." Snape's cold fingers found Harry's neck again. "The sedatives are less effective on you for some reason."

"I'm a Squid," explained Harry.

"What?"

"A Squid. No Magic. That's why they don't work."

"You mean a Squib."

"No magic," Harry agreed, nodding his head.

A bright pulse of light suddenly appeared, scorching Harry's blurry eyes and he squeezed them shut. Snape peeled back Harry's right eyelid, forcing the eye open as he shone the light directly into the sensitive eye.

"Stop it," Harry protested, trying to knock Snape's hand away. His arm refused to lift and Snape released the right to hold open the left. 

"Don't-" But Snape had finished with Harry's eyes and the light disappeared. 

Something cool and tingly touched Harry's right arm just below the elbow and he glanced down to see Snape using some sort of device to rub something into his skin. His poor eyesight prevented him from recognising what the object was, but even with his muted senses, the press of a needle into his skin was unmistakable and Harry tried to jerk away. No needles. "Stop it! Don't!"

"Hold still." Snape pushed down on Harry's ribcage. 

"Take it out!" 

"Potter." Snape jerked the device away from Harry's arm and released his chest. "Do you wish to train?"

"Yeah," Harry said hopefully, stilling.

"Then stop fussing like a first year, and allow me to heal you. If you aren't healed then you won't be training today, tomorrow, or even next week."

"Next week?" Harry protested, pushing himself upright. He couldn't wait a week. In a week, Malfoy would get him and then-

"Yes, Potter. Next week and perhaps even next month if you do not lie still and allow yourself to heal! Now lie back!" Snape punctuated his words with a forceful push that dropped Harry back against the mattress. Splaying his hands over Harry's chest, he chanted softly in Latin. A tingling sensation appeared at the top of Harry's head and flowed down through his body. He could feel it, moving through his body like the snakes that had squirmed.

"No. No bugs."

"There are no bugs. I am simply using a spell to monitor your vitals and examine you internally," explained Snape as the tingling traveled down Harry's throat. "You aren't responding as expected to most of the potions I have been giving you."

"I'm a Squib, that's what's wrong with me. I'm supposed to have magic."

"Potter, you make even less sense than usual, and considering some of the asinine things I've heard you say while lucid, that's quite an accomplishment. Now stop prattling nonsense and relax."

Harry kept his mouth shut, concentrating on the spell which dissipated when it reached his genitals.

"What happened?" Harry asked when Snape lifted his hands from Harry's chest. "Is something wrong?"

"There is nothing unusual beyond your normal deficiencies," announced Snape.

"But what if something's wrong with my cock or legs? Look at them."

Snape arched his eyebrow at Harry. "Unless you have been engaging in some sort of bizarre behaviour that you've neglected to inform me about, there is no reason for me to examine those areas."

"You should look," insisted Harry. "Just in case."

Harry felt his body being lifted up into the air and he lay limp, letting Snape rotate him onto his stomach and then lower him onto the mattress again. As he maneuvered Harry, Snape mused aloud, "I wonder if I increased the dosage if you would pass out or die first."

"You can't kill me," Harry said. "I'm going to kill Voldemort."

"Potter, if you can't speak clearly then refrain from trying. While most of what you blather about is inconsequential even while you are lucid, occasionally you do manage to come up with something relatively insightful. However, I have no desire to sift through your nearly inaudible mumbling waiting for the rare moment of sapience."

"I need to kill Voldemort," Harry said more clearly.

Snape peeled away something that felt like cling film from Harry's back. "Which won't be happening until you heal, so go back to sleep."

"I'm tired, but I'm not sleepy."

"At least attempt to go to sleep," Snape said in a brisk tone as he prodded Harry's back.

"I can't when you're poking me," said Harry. "Stop poking me, it feels strange."

"I long for the days when a single vial of Dreamless Sleep would leave you unconscious for eighteen hours." Snape smeared something cold and slimy over Harry's back.

Harry relaxed against the sheets, the soothing touch of Snape's hands sending him drifting. "It's your fault. You gave me too many drugs." 

"If you weren't so stubbornly stupid, I wouldn't have had to. You Gryffindors have no sense of self-preservation. It's amazing you survive long enough to breed."

"I wanna breed," Harry mumbled into the pillow. "Or at least practice breeding. Sex is fun."

"I can now confirm that the barbiturates _are_ affecting you, only not in a beneficial manner."

Harry lifted his head and asked Snape, "D'you think sex could help me heal faster?" After all, he felt most relaxed and sleepy right after he'd had an orgasm. 

"Even if I were inclined to fuck you whilst you are drooling and otherwise acting like a lobotomy patient, I severely doubt that copulation has any curative properties -- bad erotic literature notwithstanding."

"Oh," Harry replied. He rested for a moment before adding, "I like sex. A lot." He let himself drift off, melting further into the sheets. "Y'know, you should try it sometime."

"I fail to see how it could have escaped your notice Potter, but I _have_ had sex." Snape's hands returned to Harry's shoulders and it was far too relaxing to stay awake any longer. "Many times, in fact." 

"No," Harry said around a yawn. " _Getting_ fucked." 

Sleep came fast. 

 

~~~~~

When he woke, the room was dark. His cell was never dark and Harry blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He turned his head to the side and saw Snape on the bed beside him. How could Snape be on his small bed? Blinking at Snape as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he finally could make out that the oddly coloured object near Snape's hands was a book. Snape held the book open in one hand while his other hand stroked down the page as if he were reading with his fingertips. There was something special about those colours and shapes, but it took Harry a minute to remember what that was.

" _Frankenstein_ ," he said.

Glancing at Harry, Snape closed the book and sent it away in a cloud of black. "You're finally awake."

"I am?" asked Harry, blinking sleepily.

Snape reached across the bed to place his warm hand over Harry's forehead. "Your fever has broken."

The darkness made sense. "I'm in your room."

"Both sets of your sheets are in the laundry," said Snape as he removed his hand and left the bed. "Do you feel hungry?"

The only thing he felt was tired, as though all his life force had been drained from him. "No."

"You should attempt to eat unless you feel nauseated." Snape grabbed something off the bedside table and swept around the bed towards where Harry rested. He placed the object, a bowl, on another small table and stepped over to Harry, hooking his hands under Harry's armpits. "Sit up."

Harry attempted to help him as best he could, but his limbs felt like rocks and his chest was covered in heavy bandages that restricted his movements to such an extent, that Snape ended up using magic to prop him into a sitting position. Spreading a towel over Harry's lap, Snape covered every inch of the soft bed covers within Harry's vicinity. He sat on the edge of the bed, retrieved the bowl, and offered Harry a spoonful of mush.

Harry accepted it; the warmth of the food helped to clear his senses and he ate quietly for a short while, letting his body slowly adjust to consciousness. Once he felt closer to normal than he had since he'd woken, he asked, "What's wrong with me?"

"You aren't responding as well to the treatments as you normally do," answered Snape as he scooped up another spoonful of porridge. "Based on your symptoms, I suspect a previously undiagnosed allergy weakened your immune system, causing you to be more susceptible to infection. Since I've begun treatment measures for both, you have improved considerably."

"What about those.... things that were inside me?" Harry shuddered at the memory.

Snape pursed his lips together so tightly they went white. When he spoke, his voice was tight. "Nothing was put inside of you. You were fed a hallucinogenic that made you more susceptible to suggestion."

"You're lying!" Harry clutched his stomach. "I could feel them! They were-!"

"Potter," Snape interrupted with a sharp voice. "It was all through the power of suggestion. I refused to allow them to actually engage in such behaviours for fear of the damage it could cause to your person."

Harry shook his head as if he could banish the memories with the movements. It had seemed so real. He knew that part of what he had experienced had been hallucinations, but he refused to believe that he had dreamt the entire sequence. "You can't tell me everything that happened in the throne room was fake. That girl was real, wasn't she?"

"Yes," confirmed Snape, his dark eyes fixed on Harry's. "However-"

"Don't tell me she was a Death Eater they were going to kill anyway. The girl who looked like Hermione was an innocent Muggle, wasn't she?"

The spoon paused in the bowl. "Yes, she was," Snape admitted in a soft voice.

"Why did you lie to me?" 

"I knew you would blame yourself if you knew the truth." Snape sent the bowl away.

"It _is_ my fault." Harry clenched his fists, staring down at them. How could it not be? They had been brought to their deaths for the sole purpose of being murdered in front of him. If he'd not been in this prison, then they wouldn't have died. He was responsible.

"Potter, for many years since before you were born, Muggles have been pulled off the streets and used for various purposes. I assure you, neither was selected simply to die by your hand."

It sounded like all the other lies and half-truths Snape spun to comfort him. "How can you be so sure?" 

"If they had chosen Muggles specifically with you in mind, I know Lucius would have taken great pleasure in bringing in girls who had some connection to you or your friends," Snape pointed out. "You aren't responsible for their deaths any more than you are responsible for any other action undertaken here. The girls ultimately died to please Voldemort; not to torture you. It is the height of arrogance for you to believe that you are responsible for all the actions performed in the throne room. To them, you are nothing but a toy of the Dark Lord's with which they can occasionally play. There was nothing you could've done."

Harry shook his head in disbelief, but he was too exhausted to press the issue.

"Listen to me!" Snape grabbed Harry's chin and forced his head up, his dark eyes burning into Harry's. "What do you think would've happened had you not attempted to rescue her? They would've tortured her to death in front of you. Would you have preferred to see her thrown into a box of spiders, burnt until her throat gave out, given a hallucination-"

"Stop," pleaded Harry, trying to pull out of his grasp. He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to remember what had just happened.

Snape's grip just grew tighter. "No, you listen," he growled, his voice fierce. "Torturing Muggles has always been a favourite pasttime of Death Eaters. You have saved many Muggle lives by allowing them to use you for their entertainment. You took the torture they would've used on her. You saved her from a long, excruciating death. What will your whinging bring you? You couldn't save her, you never could. No amount of guilt will bring her back from the dead. Cast aside your guilt and train to avenge her."

It was easy for Snape to say, but impossible for Harry to do. How could he just forget those girls who'd died in front of him? There were so many things he could've done differently. If he'd not been captured, then he would've been able to find the other Horcruxes and Voldemort would've been dead by now. So many 'what ifs' coursed through his head. He knew they were useless to think about, but still, he couldn't stop himself from feeling them. He couldn't help but think of those girls and what it must've been like for them -- so scared, confused, alone. Surrounded by laughing, jeering faces in a situation they couldn't understand. At least he had Snape. At least he had hope, a plan of escape, a conviction that he would survive through this. He thought of the girl whom Lucius had killed and how she had tried to speak to him before she died. His eyes burned and Snape released his chin, as if embarrassed by Harry's frailty. 

"Potter, concentrate on what you can do rather than what you didn't."

Harry hated how coldly Snape ordered him to lose his guilt as if it were easy. As if the Death Eater had never felt any, and couldn't understand what it was like for Harry. 

"Did you torture Muggles with them?" he asked, his eyes searching Snape's for the truth, for an admission of guilt.

Snape's face clouded over and he said, "I have."

"Did you enjoy it?"

Snape's eyes never flinched from Harry's face. In a steady voice, he admitted, "Yes. I created the potion Mulciber used on you."

It was what he expected Snape to say, but it still made him sick to hear it. "How could you? How could you treat people like that?"

Snape's sallow face remained focused on Harry's. In an even voice, he said, "I was angry and they were weaker than I. I did it simply because I could. That's how I know the girl's death didn't come about because of you. If you'd not been there, it would've been a Muggle mother and child, or a pair of lovers, or-"

Harry's heart felt like it was going to burst and he closed his eyes. Snape stopped speaking. 

"And it doesn't bother you?" Harry asked in a low voice, his eyes still squeezed shut. "You don't feel any guilt?"

"Of course I do, but my responsibility is greater than yours. You've never killed anyone, much less an innocent."

Harry made a small noise of disagreement and Snape snapped, "Potter," in a tone so cold, Harry opened his eyes in shock.

"When you've decided to end this pointless bout of self-pity, inform me." Snape smoothly left the bed and brushed off his robes. "Until then, I have a Dark Lord I intend to vanquish which I will do with --or without-- your direct help. Once you've finished whinging and wish to return to work, rap your knuckles again the wall-" 

"Wait a minute," Harry interjected. "I want to train. I want to destroy him -- _them_ \-- for what they did." Just speaking the words made heat shoot up his chest and he clenched his fists in the sheets.

"You will train once your non-superficial injuries have-"

"Non-superficial? What's that mean exactly?"

Snape made a noise of disgust. "Superficial," he lectured in the same tone he used to use in his classroom, "is a term that pertains to the surface area, which in your case, would be your skin. I will use numbing potions to prevent you or the Dark Lord from feeling pain, but I will purposely allow the burns on your back to heal at a slow rate. If my calculations are correct, I should be able to delay your recovery by a full week-"

"What about Malfoy?!" Harry interrupted. "He's going to get me in a week! You said I'd be free in a week!"

"Calm down!" Snape fixed Harry with a glare. "Do you think I've forgotten? I must consider every variable, including that the Dark Lord might delay our plans by a few days." In a smoother voice, he continued, "Lucius will wait until you have recovered. He would rather wait a week to obtain you than acquire you while you are injured."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "How can you be so sure?"

"I have known Lucius for longer than you've been alive," Snape said sootily. "He prides himself on his possessions and he will only desire you as his personal toy while you are at the peak of health. In addition to his lack of desire to own a 'broken' toy, he has no inclination to play nursemaid, and the Dark Lord wishes to keep the Healers brought to you to a minimum. Finally, and most importantly, he is well aware that I have many concoctions which are harmless but would leave you feverish and weak for days, preventing him from having full enjoyment of you. He will want me to swear before the Dark Lord that you are healthy and completely recovered from any tortures before I hand you over to him."

"Why wouldn't he be suspicious that I'm taking so long to heal? I'm usually better in a few days."

"As I've already informed you," Snape said as he pinched his nose, "no one else is aware how well the potions and spells I've developed for you work. I am not a mediwizard and, with my other duties, cannot be expected to heal you as efficiently as a practitioner in the field. When one factors in the atypical spells that Mulciber used on you -- gathered from more intelligent colleagues no doubt -- it is quite impressive that I am able to heal you completely within a week's time."

Harry nodded to show his understanding. "Right, so what can we do now?"

Snape arched an eyebrow at him. "Please speak clearly."

"You said that there was work I could do. What is it?" 

Snape removed his wand from his robes and transfigured the bedside table into a comfortable looking chair. He swept into it, leaning back, and lacing his white fingers together across his abdomen. When he spoke, he used the easy conversational tone Harry preferred. "As you are undoubtedly aware, unless you managed to strike your head against the tiles harder than I thought, which is very possible considering the earlier 'conversation' we had-"

"Just get on with it." Harry crossed his arms. 

Snape smirked before his face smoothed out to his normal expression. "In order to ensure the Dark Lord's defeat, we must destroy all of his Horcruxes as well as his body. I have debated the order of destruction which would be most beneficial to us. It is highly unlikely the Dark Lord has managed to create a Horcrux of which only he is aware for the reasons I stated earlier. However, it might be prudent for us to attempt to confirm that assumption by leaving one Horcrux intact before we attack his corporeal form. If he is in fear for his body, then he might retreat and possess another one of his Horcruxes. With two souls in the same object, he will have more power and control over that Horcrux.

"Of course, upon destruction of his body, we cannot predict to which Horcrux he will retreat. If he has another outside of our knowledge, he may decide to possess that one instead of Nagini. In order to reduce this chance, I suggest that we leave Nagini alive, to be destroyed after his death. He would be a complete fool not to suspect our suspicions of Nagini and if we surround her with possible allies, he will only possess her if he has no other choice."

"Why would he go to his Horcrux? Why wouldn't he just try doing what he did last time?"

"He knows that we hunt his Horcruxes and would not want to leave the ones that remain unguarded. It is possible that he might try to rise again the same as before, but as of now, we know _how_ he can be raised, stopping him will be easy. I'd be very surprised if any bones remain from his father's body."

"Wait, what about the Diadem? We don't even know where it is."

Snape gave a nod. "After your insistence that it was to be found in Hogwarts, I've been using my sources to try to ascertain the dates of the Dark Lord's visits. I was able to confirm that the Dark Lord paid a visit to Hogwarts shortly after the Cup was removed from the vault; however, I do not know if he removed the Diadem from within the castle's confines or merely checked to see if it had been destroyed as well. As Hogwarts is currently the most well-guarded building in the UK, possibly in all of Europe, as well as completely under his control, I would be surprised if he had taken it from its confines. Of course, we must plan for either scenario."

"I'm sure it's there," Harry said. He had felt it was there for months and that feeling was only stronger now, especially after what he'd experienced the night before. Voldemort would've wanted his Horcruxes to be hidden somewhere nearly impenetrable and someplace he felt at home. At Hogwarts, especially now that he was in charge of it, he would be able to guard it more efficiently and effectively than anywhere else. Harry knew it was in the Chamber of Secrets. After all, only Harry and Voldemort could access the Chamber and Voldemort had been convinced that Harry remained a broken slave. A slow grin spread across Harry's face, but then another thought popped into his head, and he sat up so suddenly, Snape grabbed his wand.

Harry stared at Snape. "He was going to send us there. To Hogwarts. Where his Horcrux is."

Snape just looked at Harry, his face unreadable.

"That means...." Harry pondered. "Either he trusts us completely...." He almost didn't want to finish the sentence. "Or he isn't planning on sending us there at all."

Snape nodded slowly. "That was the other reason I have planned for our escape to occur before you are delivered to Lucius."

"Oh god," Harry whispered, chill spreading throughout his body. "What went wrong? Did I-?"

"He is as convinced of your servitude as he will ever be," Snape reassured him. "I believe he is simply tying up loose ends. How soon he will move I cannot say, but I imagine he first wants to test Lucius as a possible future guardian. I don't believe he will act within the week, I think it far more likely that he will find some excuse to refrain from sending either of us to Hogwarts. However, it is certainly only a matter of time."

Snape's voice was so calm and collected as if he were merely reciting what they would be dining on that evening, but Harry's heart was pounding hard and his fingers itched to touch Snape. He had always known that Snape was in danger by playing the spy, but the Potions Master was a master at lies and manipulations. He'd believed Snape would remain safe as long as they both played their parts well. Restraining his urge to grab onto Snape, he smoothed out the soft covers surrounding him.

"I won't let him kill you," Harry promised him. "I'll get him first. I swear it."

Snape leant forward in his chair. "You must promise me that you will focus on the Dark Lord. No matter what happens to me, you must destroy him. You may have to let me die and-"

"I couldn't! I can't just sit there-"

"You must! Potter..." he growled, his voice low. "If you throw away this plan on some desperate attempt to save me, or any other person for that matter, then he will win and all my planning will be for naught. If I do survive his initial attack, then he will surely finish me after he has finished you, and I do not want to see this plot go to shit due to your idiotic Gryffindor sense of heroics. If you deviate from your role to save anyone else, then I will strangle you myself, and if you throw it away to save me, then I will come back as a ghost and haunt you for the rest of your short, sorry life.

"And trust me, Potter," Snape lunged forward so suddenly that Harry scrambled towards the other side of the bed to get away from him. Snape leant across the bed, his black eyes glittering like a snake just about to strike. "If you thought being the Dark Lord's plaything was wretched, just try to imagine, as best you can with that feeble brain of yours, just how much more gruesome it would be to be the Dark Lord's plaything whilst under Lucius's control and haunted by the most vengeful ghost that ever existed. I would make your life hell far more than Lucius ever could and I've known Lucius long enough to know that such a claim is not stated lightly. You will spend the rest of your excruciating days wishing you had obeyed me and begging me for a mercy which will not be granted. Now _promise me_!"

"I promise!" swore Harry, his eyes wide at Snape's vehemence.

"Swear it on your mother! Swear on her grave that you will follow the plan until the very end and allow others to die if it enables you to defeat the Dark Lord!"

"I SWEAR IT!" yelled Harry. When he saw Snape's face curl up even more in anger he quickly added, "I swear it on my mother. I swear I won't try to save you, you arsehole!" Feeling a bit more calm, he added in a steady voice, "Or anyone else. Unless I can do it without endangering the plan."

Satisfaction crossed Snape's face and he stood up. "Come here." He motioned for Harry to approach him, his voice back to normal. "You shouldn't have moved so suddenly. Did you open any of your wounds?"

"I don't think so," said Harry with a greater measure of calm. He crawled across the bed towards Snape and plopped down with his feet over the edge. "If you don't want me to move like that then don't jump at me, you wanker."

"It is important that you obey me," Snape retorted. He removed his wand from his robe and traced a straight line down the front of Harry's bandages. "I will not have years of preparation thrown away because you decide to play the hero."

"What happens if he kills you tomorrow? What will I do?"

The bandages fell off and Snape sent them away with a flick of his wand. "He won't," he promised. His eyes were as confident as his voice. "There are a few things he needs from me first."

Snape knelt at the edge of the bed and spread Harry's legs, shifting between them. His dark eyes were focused on the scarred tissue that crossed Harry's abdomen, but all Harry could think of was the blowjob Snape had given him and all the heat in his body flowed straight to his groin. Snape traced the line of a scar with his fingertips and a slight tingling sensation spread through the wound as Snape prodded it with magic.

"It's healing well. I may have to use potions to delay it." Snape's breath was warm against Harry's belly and when he spoke, some of his hair fell forward, brushing against the tops of Harry's thighs. Harry tried to dampen his arousal, but it was like trying to catch the sea in a thimble and he raised a hand, lightly resting it on top of Snape's head.

His fingers pausing, Snape shot an irritated look up at Harry. "Potter, remove your hand this instant."

Harry removed his hand, but rather than lifting it straight up, he brushed back Snape's hair. "Your hair was tickling me."

"Tickling you?" Snape's dark eyes narrowed and the hand on Harry's stomach slid downwards, the bottom of it resting in Harry's thick cloud of dark pubic hair. Magic penetrated his abdomen, flowing through his gut.

"Yeah," Harry breathed, wishing he had magic so he could force that hand to slide further down.

Snape removed his hand and shifted slightly as he moved to touch Harry's chest. More of his hair fell forward, this time brushing Harry's rapidly hardening prick and Harry jumped, kneeing Snape in the chin.

"Potter!" Snape growled as he jerked back.

"The spiders! They tickled me." Snape's hair didn't feel anything like the spiders, but Harry wasn't going to admit the real cause for his tension, not so soon after he had suggested that Snape try getting buggered. That was exactly the wrong sort of thing to think about just then and Harry had to try very hard not to put his hands over his lap because then Snape's attention would immediately be drawn there. Then again, maybe that wasn't such a bad idea because then Snape would notice Harry's arousal and since he was down there already, he might-

Snape stood. "Turn around and kneel on the edge of the bed."

Reluctantly, Harry obeyed. Snape's fingers prodded his back, but it felt strange, as if the skin had been covered in a rubbery substance that dulled his senses.

"If you're going to leave it damaged, then how will I train?"

A jar opened behind Harry. "If your recovery continues at its current rate, then you should be able to train again tomorrow. However, I will use different methods of training you which will be less taxing to your system." Snape smeared more of the cold goo on Harry's back. "You have become quite accomplished in most of the basic tasks and we'll begin on the more advanced tasks soon, rather than wait for you to obtain mastery."

"There's not enough time," agreed Harry. "So what are we going to do next?"

"We will engage in ward detection training. Based on how proficient you are with spell detection, I predict that you will be able to master ward detection in general rather swiftly; however, due to your inexperience with wards, I imagine that learning to differentiate between the types of wards will require more effort."

"I can do it." Harry closed his eyes and leant into Snape's touch. "If I can dodge a _Muffliato_ then I can detect wards. Wards are stationary."

"You will need to learn not only the major types," said Snape, "but also the proper responses for each one, which can be quite difficult. Otherwise you will trigger them instead of slipping past them unnoticed."

"What else do you think he has guarding his Horcrux besides wards? More Inferi? Poison? If it's in the Chamber of Secrets then I need to be there because I'm the only one besides Voldemort who can speak Parseltongue."

"Perhaps a recording of your voice can be used as well. Or you could teach me the words."

"I doubt I can just teach it to you," scoffed Harry, "or that you could imitate it. That doesn't make a lot of sense." 

"We shall plan for all contingencies, including one where you are indisposed. If you leave, your cover will be broken. For that reason, it is best for you to remain here, at least for the time being."

"Not if he thinks that the Order kidnapped me. He might go to Hogwarts first, but he won't stay there for long, he'd be too busy hunting them down. I bet I could get in and destroy that Horcrux before he catches any of them, especially if you warned them first. You probably wouldn't have to warn them, I mean, he's hunting them down already right? And if they were easy to catch he should've found them by now."

Snape's fingers left Harry's back. " _Accio bandages_. Lift your arms." Steadying himself on the bed, Harry raised his arms and the bandages wrapped themselves around Harry's torso.

"I am not in contact with the Order," said Snape. "Besides, he would kill me for allowing you to be freed."

Despite his promise, Harry was unwilling to sacrifice Snape in such a manner. "You said that he planned to send you off to collect ingredients. Is there someone who can guard me that would leave me mostly alone?" He took a breath and drew himself up to his full height. With forced calm, he added, "I'll even take Avery..." he suppressed his mental shudder, "or Lucius, if it means we'll be rid of him."

"No," Snape growled. "I won't allow it."

Harry turned around to meet Snape's eyes. "I need to do this. I _want_ to do this. Well, I _choose_ to do this." He paused to gather his thoughts as he tried to explain. "' _Neither can live while the other survives_.' Even if it wasn't a prophecy I'd still feel the same. I can take a few days of either of them if I know that he'll die sooner. I'd rather experience three days of torture knowing I'll defeat Voldemort at the end of it than three weeks of relative peace while he's out there, hurting people, and I could've stopped him and I didn't."

"It's not necessary." Snape shook his head, his intense, dark eyes never leaving Harry's. "It's far too risky as well. Lucius would bring you to his home from which rescue or escape would be near impossible. Avery," he scoffed and picked up the end of a second set of bandages to continue wrapping Harry. "Avery is deranged and convinced that I am allied to you. He might kill you out of devotion to the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord would surely destroy him for such a desperate act, but that would not return you to life. I've already planned to find someone more suitable for the position whilst I leave to hunt the Elder Wand and the last Horcrux, but you must remain here to uphold your cover." He finished wrapping Harry and attached the end of the bandage with magic. "You have nothing to fear from any other guard. They are forbidden from hurting you and sexually abusing you."

They could still sexually abuse him as Harry knew all too well from Malfoy. He didn't bother to correct Snape though, just simply smiled as if he believed him. If Snape worried about him, he wouldn't leave or would spend far too long selecting a guard who wouldn't try to harm him.

Snape strode towards the other side of the room. "You should try to ingest a stronger form of nourishment before you sleep again."

"I'm not very hungry."

Snape paused mid-stride and arched an eyebrow at Harry. "Not hungry?" he echoed.

"Yeah." Harry adjusted the pillows behind him. "I don't really feel much of anything. Too many drugs I guess."

"Not enough," countered Snape as he procured another bowl with a tap of his wand. "You always heal more quickly when you allow yourself time to sleep. Once you've finished your meal, I'll give you a re-designed sleeping potion." He transfigured a bed tray for Harry and set down a bowl of porridge.

"Why do you insist on drugging me? Why can't I just sleep when I want to sleep?" Harry picked up his spoon and began to shovel food into his mouth, not caring that he was doing a rather poor job of it. If Snape gave him shite, then he'd tell the wanker to try eating gracefully while drugged to the eyeballs.

"I've watched you strain yourself trying to perform some task of which you aren't capable, far too many times for me to allow you authority over your own care. Not to mention, I have no desire to rearrange my schedule to cater to your whims." Snape returned to the chair on the other side of the bed and fetched a mug of tea that he had conjured.

Harry'd not been hungry when Snape had suggested the meal, but the porridge had been flavoured just the way he liked and he focused on his food. When he finished, he leant back against the pillows. "What's my reward?"

"Your reward? Do you believe you deserve a medal for finishing your meal?" Snape cleared the bed of extraneous items with a swish of his wand.

"You said that you'd give me a reward if I performed perfectly last night." 

"Indeed," said Snape in a tone that was anything but certain. The line between his eyebrows darkened for a bit, then he finally announced, "You may sleep in my bed tonight."

"While you sleep in mine?" asked Harry, disappointed. Snape's bed was very, very nice but that wasn't much of a reward.

With a snort, Snape said, "I wasn't planning on sleeping tonight."

Harry crossed his arms. "You fucking me is my reward? That's your reward!" 

Snape flushed. "I won't be anywhere near the bedroom!"

Harry enjoyed having a go at Snape and saw no reason to let up now. "You have to give me a blowjob. A blowjob and a massage."

The corner of Snape's mouth twitched and he arched an eyebrow at Harry. "You've become quite demanding." 

"Right, so a massage, a blowjob, and then sleeping --or not sleeping-- in your bed."

Snape stood up and marched over to Harry's side of the bed, his robes swirling around him. Harry stared at the advancing cloud of black in surprise. He had just been taking the mickey, but it looked as though Snape had thought him to be serious.

Snape paused beside the bed and raised his hand. Dumbfounded, Harry just stared at it. His dark eyes on Harry, Snape waved his hand at the cabinet to his right and the doors flew open. A potion in a small, black bottle jumped off the shelf and into his hand. "My newest sleeping draught," Snape announced as he offered it to Harry.

"I don't want to sleep."

"Hence the sleeping draught."

"I've slept all day."

"Unfortunately, you've not."

"Can't I read instead? You can brew or whatever while I read."

"For the thousandth time, Potter, ' _may I_ '. How-"

Sensing Snape would shortly embark on a long-winded rant about Harry's stupidity, he blurted out, "I want to read _Frankenstein_." 

Snape fixed Harry with a scowl. "I know it did not escape your notice that I am in the process of reading that work."

"Fine," muttered Harry, matching his scowl to Snape's. "Then I want to read _that_ book." He jammed a finger at the blue book-like object that rested on the bedside table.

"Very well." Snape strode over and snatched up the book. "You will read this or sleep. Agreed?" 

"Yeah."

Snape tossed the book onto the bed beside Harry. Harry slid it closer.

_Roast Chicken and Other Stories_ by Simon Hopkinson. In disbelief, Harry picked it up and opened it to a random page. The chapter to which he had opened the book was on chocolate and the page read 'I agree with the late Roald Dahl that the British chocolate bar is the best in the world....' Harry glanced over the rest of the chapter, finding six recipes for chocolate desserts. It was a bloody cookbook!

"The sleeping draught." Snape held out the bottle with a very self-satisfied look on his face.

Harry was tempted to refuse the potion and insist on reading the cookbook, but all this talk of sleep was making him tired and there was no way a cookbook was going to help him get out of this place and defeat Voldemort. Glaring at Snape, he snatched the bottle out of Snape's hand, fumbled with the corked lid, and poured the thick sedative down his throat. Swallowing hard, he re-corked the bottle and handed it back. 

"When I wake, I'm training.

Snape vanished the bottle. "When you wake," he said.

Too late, Harry realised that once he was unconscious, he'd be unable to stop Snape from slipping more potions down his throat. "Don't drug me anymore. I need to train again." He lay back against the pillows, nuzzling them with his cheek. 

"You will train when you have recovered." Snape placed cold fingers on Harry's neck.

"Cold," muttered Harry, trying to push away the fingers but his hand was too heavy to move. Snape slid his fingers down Harry's neck, across his shoulder, and down the length of his arm. Either Snape's new recipe was more effective or Harry was more tired than he thought, because he slipped into unconsciousness before Snape reached his elbow.


	54. Chapter 54

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

When he opened his eyes again, Snape was standing by the side of the bed.

"All of your toiletries are in the bathroom," Snape said as he offered a hand to Harry.

Harry took it and let Snape pull him to his feet. He stumbled when he first tried to stand, but caught himself.

Pulling out his wand, Snape traced the tip down the length of Harry's torso, removing the bandages. The hand holding Harry's shifted to his elbow, and guided him towards the bathroom.

"I can manage on my own," Harry insisted, shrugging off Snape's hand. He staggered in and sat down to urinate.

"Any stiffness?" asked Snape from the doorway.

Harry shook out his limbs and wiggled his torso. "Nah, everything appears to work." He had scoffed when Snape offered his bed as a reward, but he did feel incredibly well rested, and he had the feeling it wasn't simply due to the sleeping potion.

Snape brushed his teeth and then left the bathroom, leaving the door open.

A nice, long shower to scrub away all the dirt and sleepiness proved to be just what he needed. When Harry stepped out of the tub onto the plush bathmat, he felt recharged and ready to fight Voldemort. All of his toiletries had been placed beside the sink along with his clothing. He hadn't dressed in a while and didn't mind being naked. He almost didn't dress, but it wasn't like Snape to do things without purpose, so he slid them on. When he'd finished, he stepped out of the bathroom to search for Snape and breakfast.

He found Snape at his desk, composing a letter. Snape glanced over at Harry and returned to his letter. "Do you know how to cook a decent breakfast?"

Harry grinned. "Yeah, I can make breakfast."

Snape stood, arranging all the items on his desk with several flicks of his wand, and motioned for Harry to lead the way to the kitchen.

Giddy with anticipation, Harry walked ahead of him. He'd not been taken to the kitchen for months, and now he'd be able to cook breakfast. "Will you be eating too?"

" _If_ it's edible," said Snape.

"It will be," promised Harry as he walked into the kitchen.

"You may need these," said Snape from behind him. Harry turned around to see his glasses in Snape's hand.

"Thanks!" He slid them onto his nose and gazed at the massive wall of spices.

"If you burn yourself you won't be allowed in the kitchen again." Snape strode over to the fridge. "Now what would you like to make for breakfast?"

Harry thought. "Eggs. Bacon. Sausages." As Harry announced the ingredients they left the fridge, flying towards Snape. "Tomatoes. Toast. Mangoes."

"I don't have any," interrupted Snape. "I do have fresh oranges and apricot jam."

"That sounds good."

Snape floated the items over towards the kitchen counter beside the stove, elongating it so that all the ingredients fit. "Have you used a gas stove before?"

"No, just electric."

Snape turned on the stove and Summoned clean plates to rest on the other side of the stove. "Adjust the heat with the knobs." He demonstrated as if Harry had never seen a stove before. "Do not touch any part of the burner even after the heat has dissipated. You must-"

"I grew up with Muggles." Harry grabbed one of the frying pans and placed it on top of the burner. "I've cooked breakfast for my relatives as long as I can remember. I haven't burned myself since I was nine."

Shrugging, Snape returned to the table and sifted through the pile of parchment that had followed him in. He focused on his work, leaving Harry alone to cook as he pleased.

Harry had cooked for years, but never before had he tried to make a meal so perfect. In addition to a desire to surprise and impress Snape (although part of him still considered that an impossible task), he could fix everything just the way he liked it. He focused on his work--frying, sautéing and mixing. The knives didn't permit his touch and anything he needed cut, he carried over to Snape who barely glanced up from his papers as he cut the items with magic.

Harry decorated the plates with the food, fanning out the thinly sliced tomatoes and creating orange bowls with the peels as Mrs Dursley had ordered him to do for Aunt Marge.

He carried Snape's plate over first. Snape moved aside his papers when Harry set the plate down. He looked at everything offered before him critically, but made no comment. Harry returned for his own plate and then left for a cup of tea. Snape had somehow acquired his own, despite the fact that Harry hadn't seen him go near the teapot.

Selecting a mug from the rack, Harry poured a cup from the teapot. Leaves spilled in with the liquid and Harry dumped the contents of the cup back into the pot.

"Do you have a strainer?" he asked, not seeing one anywhere near the pot.

"I doubt you will find that brew to your liking," Snape said from the table. "Fill the mug with water and come here."

Harry obeyed and walked over to the table, placing his mug down beside Snape. Snape touched the mug with the tip of his wand. " _Ebullio_." The water boiled. A box of teabags flew off the shelf and into Snape's waiting hand. "Fetch the milk and sugar if you desire them."

Teabags were the last objects Harry expected to see in the home of a Potions Master but perhaps there were times when even Snape had no patience for brewing. He carried the tray over to the table and found his cup waiting by his chair.

Snape ate his meal with his eyes on a parchment. He ignored Harry and barely paid attention to what he was putting in his mouth. While Harry didn't expect a compliment, he didn't expect to be ignored either. He swallowed his disappointment and focused on his meal which had turned out quite well in his opinion.

When the silence in the kitchen, punctuated only by the sounds of their utensils stretched on and on, Harry finally broke it with, "What are you reading?"

"Answers to some queries from an associate of mine." Snape's dark eyes never left the page. "If you've finished eating, put all the dishes in the sink."

Harry hadn't finished eating, but he assumed the comment meant 'shut up and leave me alone' so he didn't try to speak to Snape after that. When he'd finished, he carried his dishes over to the sink and washed them. He was halfway through the pile when Snape stood.

"I will use magic for the rest. Follow me."

Snape led him to the throne room. Pointing his wand at Harry, he cast, " _Obscuro_." Hating the spell, Harry ducked out of the way.

"Why can't I just close my eyes?" asked Harry.

"Very well," Snape agreed after a pause. "I will inform you once I have finished."

Harry sat on the floor and waited. Even though his eyes were closed, he could tell Snape was casting because of the way the magic in the air changed. After what seemed like ages, Snape said, "Open your eyes."

Harry opened his eyes to find the room visually unchanged. He could feel the wards though, pulsing as they gave off faint traces of magic.

"I can feel them!" Only a year before he had felt nothing in that cave with Dumbledore but now he knew they were there as clearly as if they were visible. He inched towards the one nearest to him, feeling out with his hands, trying to judge the length of the invisible curtain of magic.

"There are two main types of wards," lectured Snape. "Protection and Triggering. Protection wards are the ones with which you are most familiar. Cast around a domicile, they restrict access and protect the inhabitants as well as structures from unfriendly spells. Such wards can also be set up in smaller spaces such as this room although they are basically useless here. You may wonder why the Dark Lord does not simply place a ward around his Horcrux that is strong enough to prevent anyone but him from reaching its location, but that is impossible. Such a strong ward must be constantly replenished in order to effectively deter any who wish access. While this would be practical to defend a place such as my potions lab or this home, the Dark Lord would need to dwell near his Horcrux fairly often. It would constrain him considerably, as well as alert any interested parties to the location of his hidden Horcrux.

"The Dark Lord has always been interested in pushing the limits of magic and, while it is theoretically possible that he may have found a way to maintain a strong ward without replenishing it regularly, it is highly unlikely that he has managed to accomplish this feat in such short a time. If he has, then breaking through the wards will alert him to an attack on his Horcrux. As you have not been trained in ward breaking and, without access to your magic, I doubt I would be able to teach you such a complicated art even if we had the time. We'll hope that either I will be able to break into the Chamber, or that we won't require you to accomplish this particular task.

"Now, because he is the heir of Slytherin and the Chamber of Secrets was bequeathed to him by birthright, he may be able to cast a very ancient and powerful ward that would effectively keep anyone but him from entering. However, wards of that type will allow any descendant of that bloodline to pass through. As your blood flows through his veins and he would've had to construct this ward after his resurrection, using the blood of his new body, this type of ward would let you pass through unimpeded."

Harry chuckled. "He really messed up when he took my blood, didn't he?"

"More than he knows," agreed Snape. "The Triggering type of ward is something very few know about. The way they work is that the equivalent to a Protection ward is cast in a very small area. I've cast one from here-" He pointed to the floor an arm span away from Harry's left foot. "-to here." He pointed to the ceiling directly above where he had previously been pointing. "Run your hand through it."

Harry scooted over and felt around the area. He could feel it; much stronger than the other wards, it was an invisible rope of magic hanging from the ceiling rather than a plane. When he let his fingers wander too close, it vanished.

"Because this ward is concentrated in such a small area," said Snape, "it is highly unstable and any disturbance will cause it to break. This may seem to be a poor Protection ward. That's because its purpose is to alert the caster to the presence of someone in a forbidden location. If these spells have been cast around his Horcrux, each one you break will alert him to your actions. Think of them as the wizard equivalent of lasers if you must. For this task, you will pass through this room to the door which leads to the cellar without touching any of the wards. If you touch any of them, even the Protection wards, I will know."

"With clothes?" Harry asked, blinking at Snape. 

"I assumed that you would find clothes if I brought you to Hogwarts, but if you'd prefer to traipse about naked, I see no harm in it." Snape smirked. 

Harry rolled his eyes. "Of course I'm getting clothes if I can! And really, I'm glad he never let you bring me to Hogwarts, because the idea of walking through those halls starkers sounds like a nightmare I once had." Crouching down, he crawled forward, feeling the air for traces of magic.

_Obscuro_ raced towards his back and he barely had time to roll out of the way, straight into a ward.

"What the hell!?"

"What have I told you about moving only as much as you need to?" Snape fired off another that Harry avoided by ducking.

"I just didn't expect it." Harry squatted, feeling for the wards as he dodged the rapid fire of spells that shot at him. He had learned to dodge fairly efficiently but the amorphous, variable wards confused him. "Slow down the spells."

"Concentrate."

Harry tried to, but he had somehow become trapped between walls of wards and, as Snape advanced, he couldn't find a way to escape. He shifted on his feet avoiding the spells and, just when he finally found the exit, he tripped, tumbling through two triggering wards.

"Where is your focus, Potter?" criticised Snape, as he set the wards back up. "Your dodging was pathetic."

"Let me do the wards alone first. It's too confusing."

"You need to be adaptable to new situations. If you can't think on your feet you'll never survive. Go." Snape shot off a spell and Harry barely had time to dodge out of the way.

He scuttled towards the door, trying to rely on instinct and the edges of his senses rather than feeling out each ward But still the spells raced all around him, and he became confused about where he had found wards already and where the carpet was free. _Obscuro_ hit him and he paused.

"Why are you stopping?" yelled Snape from across the room. "Move!"

More spells raced towards him, _Immobulus_ this time, and Harry rolled out of the way. Being blind was bad enough, no way was he becoming immobile as well.

Harry shouted, "How in bloody hell am I supposed to reach the door when I'm blind?"

"You don't remember where it was?" Snape scoffed. "You must always pay attention to your surroundings."

"I got turned around! I can't dodge, find the wards, and head towards a door when I'm blind!"

"You should be able to," said Snape without a shred of understanding in his voice. But he cast a _Finite Incantatem_ at Harry and Harry gladly jumped in its path. Glancing around the room, he saw the door at the other end.

"Fuck!" There was no way he was going to be able to get to the bloody door at the current rate. "Slow it down."

Snape did not slow down the spells. "You need to learn this now, Potter. Time is of the essence and we cannot afford to waste any more. Feel with magic instead of relying on your eyes."

"I don't have my bloody magic!"

"You know what I mean!"

Harry rushed towards the door, twisting and turning as he dodged around both wards and spells. He had got halfway across the floor when he stepped on a triggering ward.

"Again," said Snape.

Each round was as disastrous as the last. By the fifth attempt, Harry had given up. He dropped to the floor to catch his breath and said, "I can't do this!"

Snape crossed his arms. "You need to try harder-"

"What do you think I've been doing? This is the first time I've been able to feel these things!"

"Do you want to be free of this place or not?"

Harry couldn't believe it. As if he wanted to be a slave. "Fuck you, arsehole. Don't even give me that shit. You know I want to get the fuck out of here, but I need time to learn this. If it's so fucking important, then you should have started me on it earlier!"

Snape tsked. "I won't overestimate you again. Very well, go through with only the wards first." He waved his hand dismissively.

Seething, Harry dropped down to his hands and knees and began to feel the wards again. Snape needed to pull that huge fucking stick out of his arse and fast. Harry had barely trained at Hogwarts and only started learning most of these skills within the past month or two. He doubted anyone else would have been able to do as well as he had just done without serious training on either ward detection or dodging. Hell, from what he'd seen, most wizards couldn't properly dodge; it was never suggested as a tactic in the classes where he'd learned the bare minimum of defensive magic.

The wards nearest the door were organised into a twisted spider web that required a level of flexibility Harry hadn't realised he had. With care and many false steps, he finally wound his way through the invisible maze and touched the door knob.

"Now, we will begin again." Snape twirled his wand around, deconstructing the wards.

"I need to use the loo first."

"Very well."

"It's not very likely that someone will be shooting spells at me while I'm trying to get past wards, is it?" asked Harry as he followed after Snape. "I mean, if I am close enough to a Horcrux to see the wards and a Death Eater sees me, there is no point in tip-toeing through them."

"Not all of his allies have taken the Dark Mark," Snape reminded him.

Faint memories reformed. "Oh yeah, Greyback didn't have a Dark Mark. Is that why he isn't invited to the parties?"

"Greyback was killed; but no, he wouldn't have been invited had he lived."

Good. Memories of Greyback and Hermione swam into his mind, but the edges of them were fuzzy. He tugged on them, trying to solidify the missing pieces. He didn't want to remember the torture, but there was something cut out, something he had the feeling he needed to know.

Snape's voice jarred Harry back to the present. "If you are finished, then we will return to the practice room."

Nodding, Harry washed his hands and followed Snape. "I'm ready for some spells now, but only a few of them at first."

The second attempt went much better than the first. It took several hours, but Harry managed to grab the door handle, even while dodging. He dropped to the floor, panting for breath as Snape cleared the room of wards. Once his pounding heart no longer felt as though it would explode from his chest any moment, Harry asked, "I did it, didn't I? I didn't touch any of them that time."

"No, but you need to move faster."

Harry wasn't expecting a compliment, but more reprimands irked him. "I'm hungry. Is it lunch time yet?"

"Yes, you may make yourself a sandwich." Snape motioned for Harry to follow him back to the kitchen. Harry climbed to his feet, leaning against the wall for support, and then stumbled after him. "I cut up chicken breasts for sandwich meat yesterday," said Snape as they entered the kitchen. "Sit at the table."

Harry sat down and Snape sent the chicken breasts over along with mustard, mayonnaise, butter, and several vegetables. When the bread came, Harry liberally coated a slice in mustard before piling chicken breasts high. He added a bit of lettuce and some tomatoes before smooshing the second piece on the top and biting into the masterpiece. Snape sent over a glass of milk and busied himself by the stove, brewing a new pot of tea. This one was crafted with the same care devoted to brewing potions; each ingredient carefully measured and added. Once the kettle whistled, Snape set about making his own meal.

By the time Harry started on his second sandwich, Snape had finished making his food. He poured out two cups and carried them over to the table, his plate floating behind him. He added milk and sugar to his own cup, a single cube along with a liberal dash of milk.

Harry had never seen Snape add anything to his tea and assumed that it was bitter. He poured in twice as much milk as Snape had used and dropped in three cubes of sugar. Snape raised his eyebrow, but his mouth was full of tea so he didn't say anything.

"If you had to add milk and sugar, then I'm definitely going to have to," explained Harry as he picked up a teaspoon he didn't remember Snape giving him, and stirred his tea.

"I normally add a bit of milk and sugar to my non-herbal teas."

"I've never seen you."

"I prepare the cups ahead of time. Yours aren't the only dishes I prearrange in the mornings."

Harry took a sip of his tea. He had added too much sugar. He pretended that he hadn't and stubbornly drank from his mug.

Snape's meal consisted of baguette slices which were covered in some sort of weird mixture of vegetables and spices.

"What's that?" Harry asked as he finished his second sandwich.

"Bruschettas," said Snape offering one to Harry with a wave of his hand. "You don't seem to favour basil, so I didn't think you'd like it."

Harry ate one, then stole another. "I could do without it, but everything else is good."

"Haven't you had enough to eat?" Snape guarded his last piece with a frown and his arm.

"I'm training so I need to eat a lot." Harry smirked. "Speaking of which, what are we doing now?"

"For the next session, we will combine all that you have learned so far in the form of a competition."

At the term 'competition,' Harry perked up. "I'm going to try to hit you with balls while you try to shoot me with spells?"

"No. Wait here." Snape cast the chaining spell to emphasize his words and strode off towards the throne room, taking his last bruschetta with him.

Annoyed, Harry pulled on the chain which now connected his right arm to the table. As he examined it, he discovered that Snape hadn't actually attached it to the table, merely created a ring around the leg. He cleared all the dishes, placing them on his chair, and then sat down on the floor. He gripped the leg of the table and tried to lift it, but it was much heavier than it looked. He lay down on his back and placed his feet on the underside of the table and pushed up with all his might. He pushed and pushed and finally lifted the table enough to slide the ring out from under the leg. He set the table back down and caught his breath. He was free! But what should he do?

He glanced around, pondering what sort of mischief he could get up to. Nicking food seemed pointless and any weapons he collected would be found and confiscated by Snape. Not knowing how long Snape would be away, he sneaked over to hide behind the door. He held his breath when Snape strode into the room. Snape stopped as soon as he saw the empty table and realised Harry was nowhere insight. Luckily, he had walked in far enough for Harry to push the door closed and jump at Snape's back.

Snape whirled around, his wand out, and yelled, " _Stupefy_!"

Harry barely managed to roll out of the way in time.

"Potter!" Snape bellowed, his face white. "What do you think you are doing?" He marched over to Harry who remained crouched on the floor.

"I was just training you," said Harry, grinning to show he meant no harm.

Snape grabbed him by the arm with fingers like talons and hauled him to his feet. He shoved Harry back towards the counter.

Harry shot a hand back to catch himself. "You're going to hurt me!"

"I should," hissed Snape. His dark eyes burned from a pale face twisted with rage. His hand flew out and boxed Harry on the side of the head hard enough to sting, but not enough to hurt. "Why can't you think? What if I'd had an unexpected visitor with me?"

His hand flew again. Harry batted it away. Snape grabbed the chain with his left hand and, pinning Harry against the counter, closed his right hand around his neck.

"You wouldn't have just led them in here without warning me." Harry grabbed the wrist of the hand that was threatening to throttle him and tried to pull it away. "You'd have found some way to let me know."

"What if I'd killed you?" Snape continued in the same low, dangerous voice.

"You couldn't have. You've trained me too well. See how I dodged that _Stupefy_?"

"You stupid-" Still squeezing his neck, Snape dropped the chain and smacked him in the face. "-arrogant-" Another smack. "-childish-" Another.

"Stop it!" Harry pushed him away. It wasn't painful, but he hated being hit. 

Snatching his arm, Snape spun him around, and bent him over the counter. Harry kicked back his legs, pushing up off the counter, but Snape moved between his legs and, holding one arm and the back of his neck, shoved him back down with surprising strength.

"Move again," said Snape, his voice dark, "and you'll regret it."

"Hurt me," Harry retorted, "and you'll regret it."

Snape pressed Harry's face harder into the counter top. "You insufferable child. Do you really think I need to hurt you to punish you?"

Wincing, his heart pounding, Harry answered, "No, but do you really think you can do what the Dursleys couldn't? Have Voldemort's punishments ever made you treat him with respect or anything other than false obedience?"

"I suppose you think I should just allow you to do whatever you want, no matter how stupid your actions are. You-"

"No," interrupted Harry. "I think you should tell me what I'm doing wrong instead of trying to beat me into submission. Look, I'm sorry I moved. I wasn't trying to run away or anything. If I thought for even a second that someone else had stepped in the house, I would've returned to the chair."

Snape released him and took a step back. "This is exactly why you should stay here instead of trying to hunt for the Horcrux yourself. You have no sense of self-preservation and constantly behave in the most infantile manner. You'd get yourself killed before you reached the edge of the wards. There are times for playing games and this is not one of them. You will never, ever do that again. When I chain you somewhere, you will stay there. For whose protection do you think I use the chains?"

"Mine," sighed Harry. "I won't do it again. I'm sorry."

At the second 'I'm sorry,' the rest of the anger drained from Snape's face and his features slid back to normal. He looked down at the chain. "How did you escape from the table?"

"I pushed it up."

"You pushed up the table?" repeated Snape, his eyebrows darting upwards in disbelief.

"I lay down on my back and pushed up the table. I didn't move it much, but I only needed to lift it enough to slide the ring under the leg."

Still holding the end of Harry's chain, Snape turned and dragged him towards the practice room. "Can I trust you to behave for the rest of the day?"

"Yes," Harry answered in the most contrite tone he could manage. "You know I'll train as best I can. Let me prove it to you." 

Snape stepped into the practice room which had been filled with black objects of various sizes as if Snape had enlarged a box of toy blocks and scattered the contents all over the floor. The boxes nearly covered the carpet completely, leaving narrow passages that wound through the room in zig-zagging patterns.

"The objective of this contest is to steal your opponent's wand--or rather, the replica thereof," said Snape as he withdrew two wands from his robe and handed one to Harry. A thrill passed through Harry at the feel of the object in his hand. He knew, just by looking at it, that it wasn't a real wand, just a carved bit of wood; and he was without magic. However, even knowing that, he felt powerful holding the thin stick. It was a reminder that he was a wizard and, although he might be currently stripped of his powers, he had the potential to be fierce; to fight against Voldemort in a proper wizard's duel. He clutched the stick and grinned widely up at Snape, not caring if he looked mental.

Snape gave a snort and removed the chain. "To make the challenge even more difficult, I have placed wards around the room. Trigger them and I will know exactly where you are."

Harry frowned. "That's not fair to me. You'll win for sure."

"I'll blind myself," said Snape. " _Obscuro_."

Snape's eyes turned completely black. It startled Harry, who took a step back.

"When I say, _now_ , count to twenty and then the contest will begin. You must remain in this room. If you try to leave, I will know. Do you understand?"

"Yep. I gotta grab your wand or stop you from grabbing mine. No leaving the room and you've stuck wards everywhere."

Snape nodded. "Now." The lights in the room dimmed and Snape became a dark shadow.

Even though Snape was blind, Harry darted away from him as quickly as he could while feeling for the wards. He had no doubt that a blinded Snape was still a dangerous opponent. He found a three-way corner and waited. No sense in chasing after Snape when Snape would have to come after him. Besides, Snape probably expected him to go on the hunt and, by waiting, he had a greater element of surprise. He tried to control his breathing while he waited, his neck craning and his eyes straining to peer into the blackness of the narrow paths surrounding him. Trying to hold it had never worked well, but breathing slowly and deeply seemed to help. His heart pounded hard in his chest, beating in his ears. Even though he knew it was impossible for Snape to hear the drumming, it still seemed to echo around the empty room and he willed it to slow.

His ankles hurt from the awkward squat, but he held his position. Just when he was about to give up and begin the hunt for Snape, he saw a dark shadow moving at the edge of the shortest hallway that connected to his position. It walked past the hallway, moving at a glacial speed.

Harry wanted to chase the shadow, but he also wanted to stay and wait for Snape to come for him. He chose to remain in his spot. After several minutes had passed and he had begun to regret that decision, he thought he saw movement down the longest hallway. He peered into the darkness. Although he estimated the longest hallway to be only twice the length of his body, with the low lights, it was difficult to see anything more than what appeared to be a black blob floating towards him. Harry tightened his grip on his own wand and, with occasional glances at the other hallways, waited for Snape to approach him.

The shadow moved ever so cautiously, approaching a foot at a time. He spotted a white patch near the top which he assumed to be Snape's face. As slowly as he could move, Harry adjusted himself, shifting to a better crouch. When Snape was one body-length away from him, he charged, pushing to his feet and flying forward.

Snape jumped backwards, toppling a block into the path between himself and Harry. Harry, who hadn't realised such a thing could be done, ran into it and tripped. As Snape groped for Harry's wand, he rolled out of the way and darted off down a hallway. He ran straight through a ward, recognising it as his foot passed through it. Cursing his luck, he forced himself to slow and turned to head in a different direction. In order to avoid the wards, he had to move slowly and his mind screamed at him that Snape was gaining on him with each slow step.

He glanced back at regular intervals. Just when he was confident he had finally escaped, he spotted a cloud of black and panic filled him. Even blinded, Snape would soon steal his wand.

His heart pounding, Harry yelled at himself internally to think. A phrase of Snape's popped into his mind: 'Stop thinking about limitations and start thinking about possibilities.' He glanced up at the tops of the boxes surrounding him and had an epiphany. As quietly as he could, he slid onto a short box. From there, it wasn't difficult to pull himself onto a taller one. He surveyed his surroundings and discovered taller boxes crammed together across the hallway from where he was now. After searching for Snape and finding him nowhere in sight, Harry wiggled his way down the boxes, hurried across the path as fast as he dared, and shimmied up the steps of boxes opposite from the previous one. On top of the tallest, he surveyed the layout, noting the dark spot that he assumed to be Snape. Despite the fact that Snape had knocked over the box to block Harry rather easily, the one on which he sat seemed sturdy. Harry decided to wait there.

Snape meandered through the room as he searched for Harry. He paced carefully, his slow steps covering every exposed inch of the carpet. He ignored the tops of the boxes, only touching them to guide his movements. After what seemed like years, his steps brought him closer to where Harry was lying in wait. Finally, Snape passed by his boxes. Harry jumped, landing in front of Snape. Snape had switched his wand to his left hand and Harry's right darted forward, opening to catch Snape's. Snape had caught onto the ambush when Harry's feet hit the carpet, and when Harry tried to yank the wand out of Snape's hand, he found that not only did Snape refuse to relinquish the wood, but he also held Harry's makeshift wand tightly.

" _Finite Incantatem_ ," cast Snape. The blindness disappeared from his eyes and the room lit up. "A tie."

"No way," argued Harry. "I got you first!" 

"You attacked first, but you endangered your own wand in the attack," Snape pointed out as he pulled both wands from Harry's now loose fist and returned the fake one to his robes. He used the other to restore the room's normal decor. "I closed my fingers around your wand just as you closed yours around mine."

Harry grumbled under his breath but could not argue with Snape's logic. "What are we going to do for the sex since we tied?"

There was a moment's pause, and then Snape said, "We simply take turns."

"No." Harry shook his head. "How will we decide who gets to go first? What we'll do is this: You can fuck me, but I get to pick where and in which position."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "You already have a location in mind."

"The Dark Lord's throne," said Harry with a wide grin.

"Absolutely not." Snape's voice brooked no disagreement.

"Why not? Are you scared?" 

"If you are going to be childish-"

"It's not childish," Harry argued, glaring. "Fine, we'll do it in _that_ chair." He pointed to a comfortable-looking recliner. "But I get to pick the position and you can't touch me."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "You idiot, how am I supposed to fuck you if I can't touch you?"

"With your hands!" Harry said, waving his for emphasis. "You can't touch me with your hands!"

For a moment, Snape just looked at Harry through half-lidded eyes and Harry thought he'd refuse for sure. Then, he nodded curtly. "Fine."

"All right, take off your clothes." Harry stripped off his clothing and walked over to the chair.

"No," refused Snape.

"Oh, come on! You have to take off your clothes!"

Snape crossed his arms. "If you won't let me touch you, then I'm not removing anything that isn't necessary."

"Why does it matter to you if you touch me or not?" 

"Because if I let you control it, you will work yourself to climax far too quickly for me to bother undressing," Snape declared in a sooty tone.

Harry crossed his arms. "I will not."

Snape's eyes glittered. "Shall we have a contest then? We will practise frottage and the first one to reach climax must agree to the rules of the other."

Harry knew he wouldn't win. That bastard could hold himself off for hours if need be, and Harry had just never bothered to learn how. "Only for the clothes," he finally relented, knowing he'd been beaten. "If you win, you get to keep them on, if I win, you have to take them off."

"Very well." Snape strode over to the chair and smoothly took his seat. His fingers worked over his trousers and soon he had pulled out his half-hard cock. "Come here." He motioned with his fingers for Harry to approach him.

Harry crossed the room. "Shouldn't we do this on the floor or something?"

Snape reached forward and grabbed Harry's wrist, pulling him forward. "You suggested the chair, now straddle my legs."

Harry climbed onto the chair, feeling awkward as he straddled Snape's legs and pushed his own hardening dick against Snape's. He tried to pull his wrist out of Snape's hand to grip them with both hands but Snape's grasp remained tight.

"No manual manipulation," insisted Snape before he released Harry's hand. He plucked the glasses from Harry's nose and tossed them to the side.

Harry gripped the armrests. He was determined to try and do the best he could. He probably wouldn't win, but he hoped he'd be able to hold out for a long time. He wished he knew more about Snape's sexuality, what drove Snape wild. If he knew, he would've done it to try and push the other wizard over the edge, but he didn't know anything beyond the very basics. He felt more virginal than he had felt in a while; young and inexperienced. He ground his hips against Snape's, pressing his rapidly filling manhood against the thickening one beneath him. Snape watched Harry with burning eyes, his body completely still except for the slow movement of his chest as he breathed.

Harry bit his lip as he wiggled around, trying to find the best spots to stimulate Snape. Frottage wasn't nearly as exciting or as pleasurable as it had sounded in the books. It was too similar to when he rubbed his dick against the pillows -- nice, but not nearly as good as a blowjob or fucking. He pressed his cock against Snape's as hard as he could, but he couldn't seem to get the right angle or enough friction to properly stimulate both of them, no matter how he moved his hips. Snape remained as frozen as a statue, his cock hard and his eyes filled with fire, but still in complete control of himself. Fucking bastard. The only reason he'd suggested this stupid thing was because he knew he'd win. 

Oh well. If Harry wasn't going to win this contest, he'd at least make sure that he'd get to come twice that night. He stopped focusing on trying to get Snape off and started to concentrate on his own pleasure. He closed his eyes and wiggled his hips until he found the perfect spot, and then began thrusting his pelvis as he rubbed against Snape.

Oh god, that was perfect. Just there. Still not what he really wanted, but better than nothing. Harry let a moan escape his lips as he rubbed faster, his orgasm rushing towards him like a freight train. And then-- Almost--

"Are you even trying to control yourself?" Snape's criticism cut through his pleasure. "Where's your discipline?"

For a moment, Harry considered stopping and trying to beat Snape, but he was too far along to care. "Piss off, Snape," he growled as he grabbed the man's shoulders and rubbed himself faster and harder. And then, he came. Groaning, he shot out over the two of them, covering both their dicks in warm, wet spunk.

Harry moaned, and rutted against Snape until he finished spewing, the release leaving him very satisfied even though he'd lost.

Snape's eyes were shining with satisfaction. He held out a hand to the side. " _Accio lubricant_!" The wide, flat container hurtled towards him and he caught it easily, holding it out to Harry as he cast the cleaning spell. Harry accepted it and opened it, dropping the lid to the floor. He scooted back to give himself room and then, covering his fingers in the warm goo, proceeded to lube up Snape's hard cock. Snape watched the proceedings with half-lidded eyes, still holding himself completely still. Harry deliberately took his time to smear on the lube, running his hands up and down Snape's cock, slipping his fingers under the foreskin and teasing the head inside its sheath, rubbing his palm over the head, and wiggling his fingers over the sides and the bottom. Snape endured it all stoically until one of Harry's hands slid down to cup his balls, rolling them gently in his fingers. He let out a tiny grunt of pleasure then and Harry finally showed mercy.

Lifting his bum up, Harry reached back behind himself and pressed a finger inside. It slipped in easily and when the second met no resistance either, he knew he was ready.

"Right, hands on the arm-rests," insisted Harry as he turned himself around.

Snape's arms immediately came to lie on the arm-rests, his cock straining up towards Harry's arse. Harry placed his hands over Snape's forearms and then lowered himself down towards Snape's cock. The head of it pressed behind his balls and he wiggled until it was right up against his pucker. He pressed down on it, but didn't let it penetrate the tight ring.

"I don't know if I'm stretched enough," he lied. "Maybe I need some more lube."

"Then use it, you stupid fool," Snape said and Harry knew he was trying his hardest not to thrust up his hips.

"Nah," Harry answered cheekily, "I'll just go reeeeal slow." And with that, he pushed down, letting the head of Snape's thick cock breach his pucker. Snape let out a hiss of pleasure as Harry very slowly worked his way down Snape's cock, taking it deeper and deeper with a pace that was sure to drive the Potions Master out of his mind. The slow stretch and fill felt amazing, the warmth of Snape's cock flowing into him. He wanted to go faster, to take more and deeper, but it was too much fun to feel Snape's arms stain under his hands. Snape bore the torture stoically and Harry was halfway down before his resolve broke, and he thrust up hard.

"Don't move," Harry insisted, pressing down with his full weight, pinning Snape against the chair with his bum. Snape was buried fully inside of him, Harry's balls resting against Snape's. Harry squeezed around the thick length inside of him before he shifted ever so slightly, moving his hips only enough to give the feel of movement. Snape tried to thrust back up against him, but Harry was too heavy for him to move without magic.

"Potter! Move your sodding hips or I'll-" Snape started to snarl and Harry finally stopped teasing him and began to lightly fuck himself on Snape's cock. Snape's arms twitched under Harry's hands and Harry knew that Snape was dying to pull them out of his grip, grab his hips, and really pound into him. Harry wasn't going to let him. Yet. 

Harry rode Snape's thrusts, rising up whenever Snape thrust up so that the other wizard couldn't get the depth he wanted to.

Snape bore it all in stride, his hips rising faster and harder. Finally, he grunted, "Feet. Up. Put your feet up on the arm-rests."

Deciding to show him mercy, Harry leaned back on his hands and placed his feet up on the armrest. The change in angle allowed Snape to thrust deeper into him, burying himself ball-deep with each thrust. Harry balanced himself on the armrest and let Snape fuck him as hard as he wanted, his own cock stirring to life again as Snape's rammed into his hole, brushing against his prostate with each stroke.

"Fuck," Harry panted, finally thrusting back against Snape in earnest. He held that pose until the urge to stroke himself was too great for him to resist. He released Snape's trapped arms and leaned back against him, resting his head on the Potions Master's shoulder as he shot down a hand to rub one off in earnest. Snape immediately snaked down his hands to grab Harry's legs, pushing Harry down as he thrust up, his strokes slowing. Harry wanked himself in time to the languid strokes. It was good, but he preferred it fast and hard.

"Go faster," he suggested, trying to push his hips down hard.

"Get up and turn around," Snape ordered in a crisp voice, pushing Harry as he gave the instructions.

Harry hurriedly pulled himself off Snape's dick and turned around as Snape adjusted himself in the chair.

"Come here," Snape grabbed Harry's arse and pulled him forward. Harry was caught off guard and fell, knocking his forehead against Snape's.

"Watch it! No do-overs, remember?"

"Do you need anything?" Snape asked in concern, raising a hand to brush back Harry's hair as he pulled Harry's head down for a closer look.

"I'm fine," insisted Harry, batting Snape's hands away. "This chair needs to be wider," he commented as he tried to reposition himself.

The wand flew to Snape's hand and he waved it in a half-circle, doubling the chair's width. "Wide enough?"

"Show-off." Harry grinned as he straddled Snape's hips, reaching down between his legs to grab Snape's cock and hold it in place while he positioned his bum. "When I get my magic back, I'll show you a trick or two."

"You would've destroyed the chair," argued Snape as he carelessly tossed his wand to the side and grabbed Harry's waist, pushing down as he thrust up.

"Nn," grunted Harry, grabbing onto Snape's shoulders to better balance himself. He matched Snape's thrusts, his hips pumping fast as he rode Snape's thick cock. "Better," he gasped. "Much better."

Snape's hands slid up Harry's back, pushing Harry's shoulders towards him as he bent forward. He flickered his tongue over Harry's collarbone and then lightly nipped the juncture of his shoulder and neck. Harry tilted his head back, baring his neck to Snape as Snape's tongue and teeth worked their way slowly up the bared expanse.

Harry moaned, deep in his throat, as Snape's hot tongue licked over his Adam's apple. Hands curled in his hair and he bent his head forward to press his hot mouth against Snape's equally warm one. Harry nipped at the soft lips, biting the lower one lightly which caused a soft groan to escape Snape's lips. Encouraged, Harry bit harder until the warm salty taste of blood touched his tongue and he pulled back guiltily. Snape gripped Harry's hips, but rather than throw him off, he pushed down as he thrust up and Harry had the ridiculous thought that if Snape's cock had been just a bit longer, it would've pierced through his intestines and speared his heart.

Snape grunted and Harry stared down at him to see the perpetually pissed-off face melt into bliss as orgasm neared. Snape closed his eyes and threw back his head in ecstasy, exposing his throat to Harry. Harry watched, entranced, as Snape orgasmed, his dick pulsing inside Harry's arse as he spent his pleasure. Peace fell upon his features, and a slight smile graced his lips. His face was so open, so unguarded and oddly submissive. In that moment, he was more naked than he'd ever been, and when the dark eyes opened, Harry caught a glimpse of something deep within them that vanished as soon as Snape realised he had an audience to his rapture. Without a word, Snape pulled Harry off of his cock and towards him, fastening his mouth around a nipple and sucking hard as his hand closed around Harry's dripping penis. Harry melted against him, his fingers curling in Snape's hair, the strands slipping through his fingers.

Snape's hand gripped tighter and Harry pulled back, gently pulling Snape's head back and up while he shifted down until he pressed his lips against Snape's. He closed his eyes and lapped at the bite mark with his tongue, as if he could clean it from Snape's mouth. Snape's tongue slid out to swipe against Harry's and Harry chased it down, thrusting his hips into Snape's hands as he explored Snape's mouth with his tongue.

He was so close and when Snape's hand did that little half-twist thing, he came, the kiss forgotten as he moaned his pleasure into Snape's mouth, his release spurting into Snape's hand. He shuddered against Snape as he came and came, the peace that Snape had felt now flowing through him as well and when his body finished shaking, he pulled back and opened his eyes. He smiled at Snape who was watching Harry with warm eyes.

Harry grinned and said, "That was much better than taking turns, wasn't it?"

"I never thought you'd turn down fellatio." Snape teased, as he raised his hand to gently brush Harry's fringe away again. "I'll need to cut this mess soon."

Harry released Snape's hair, shifting his hands back to Snape's shoulders.

"I've been thinking about growing it out again." He shook his head like a dog shaking water off its coat. "It makes me look older."

"Younger," Snape corrected. "The only way you'd look older with long hair is if you grew a beard to match it. Which reminds me." He fetched his wand and pressed it to Harry's cheek. The shaving spell raced across his jaw and when Snape removed his wand, Harry rubbed at his face.

"I'll be so glad once I can shave my own face again."

Snape used his wand to clean them both of sweat and semen.

"Does it hurt?" Harry touched the mark on Snape's lower lip.

"It's nothing," said Snape dismissively as he pushed Harry off of him. "You'll have to try harder than that."

"I wasn't trying to hurt you."

"You think this hurts me?" Snape smirked. "I've had girls bite me harder."

Harry hated hearing about Snape's conquests. He turned and searched the floor for his glasses.

"Perhaps a shower is in order," Snape said as he stood up and strode towards the door leading to his room.

"Yeah." Harry followed after him. Snape motioned him into the bathroom and Harry took a shower first, soaping himself down quickly. When he was finished, Snape chained him to the towel rack and took his own shower. He stepped into the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his skinny frame and, after climbing in the tub, he shut the curtains and then stripped off his towel, draping it over the curtain pole. Harry didn't understand why Snape felt the need to hide his nudity. They had just fucked and it wasn't like Harry hadn't seen Snape naked before. He sat, bored, on the floor and waited.

"Will I cook dinner too?" asked Harry.

"I intend to make cottage pie and a crumble for desert," announced Snape from behind the curtain.

"I can help with the cottage pie. I've never made a crumble before, but it doesn't seem too hard."

"Very well." Snape turned off the shower, Summoned a clean towel to himself, and left the tub wrapped in the towel. He disappeared into his bedroom and when he stepped into Harry's field of vision again, he was dressed in his black trousers and frock coat and his hair had already been dried. He released Harry from the chain and stalked towards the kitchen. "Dress."

Harry scurried after him, snatching up his clothes and pulling them on along his way. 

 

[[ _I always wondered why Voldemort didn't have wards surrounding his Horcruxes that prevented other people from walking in and taking them. Hogwarts can protect against that, so why can't he? I made up an explanation here, but if anyone has a better one, I'd love to hear it._

_Please review!_ ]]


	55. Chapter 55

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

In the kitchen, Snape turned on the oven and called ingredients to himself before tying on his apron and rolling back his sleeves. After washing his hands and bidding Harry to do the same, he spread the hazelnuts out on a baking sheet and sent it into the oven. He then ordered, "Peel the potatoes and cut them in quarters," as he began to chop up the herbs, using a small knife to cut them impossibly fine. A drawer opened and a peeler soared towards Harry. Harry grabbed it and carried the potatoes over to the sink.

Dishes flew around him and it was hard for him to concentrate on his work as food cooked itself. Snape, who hadn't looked up from his work, paused and turned on the two burners. As he returned to his work, a spatula rose from the drawer and joined the pan, dancing in the air as it pushed around the beef. For a moment, Harry just gawked at everything. He'd seen cooking with magic before, but Mrs Weasley hadn't made everything look so . . . effortless. If Snape fought anything like he cooked, he would be impossible for Harry to defeat, even with all his training. If only Harry was half as good as him with wandless magic!

Realising he was staring, Harry turned his attention back to the potatoes in his hand. After he had peeled and cut them up, he dumped them in the pot of water. Snape had finished browning all the meat, and was busy mixing, chopping, and sautéing all at the same time on the other side of the room. Without looking up from what he was doing, he said, "Grate the cheese."

A grater appeared, along with a plate, and the cheese flew over to Harry, who caught it and set to work.

"How much should I make?" he asked Snape.

"However much you want," answered Snape without lifting his eyes from the food, his hands flying over the dishes like spiders. Harry shrugged and grated a good amount to cover the top. When he finished, Snape announced that the potatoes should be ready. A large, low bowl flew over from a cabinet and the potatoes rose up out of the pot, shook themselves off and landed in the bowl. From the drawer came a potato masher. Knowing what to do, Harry caught it and pounded the potatoes to a mush.

"Add a cup of milk and a dash of ground pepper," said Snape from the stove where he was adding the peas.

Harry'd never liked cooking for the Dursley, but it was different with Snape. Although Snape bossed him around just as much as Aunt Petunia, he never could stand being in the kitchen with Petunia. Cooking with Snape was less of a chore and more of a hobby. Following Snape's orders, he asked when he finished, "What now?"

Snape transferred the contents of his pan to a pie tin. "Spread the potatoes over the beef and vegetables, then sprinkle cheese on top."

"All right." When Harry finished, Snape opened the oven and used magic to float it in while floating the now-toasted hazelnuts out.

"While that is baking, we'll make dessert," Snape announced. He sent most of the foods back to from where they had come from and the left-over dishes to the sink. Once the workspace had been cleared and a cleaning spell cast, Snape called the new ingredients and told Harry to wash his hands and mix the crumble. 

Harry remembered what the tops of crumbles usually looked liked and hurried over to the sink. After he had washed his hands in the sink - a difficult task with the scrubbers leaping out of the water to try to help him clean his hands - he returned to the bowl and mixed up the ingredients with his fingers. As he was mixing, hazelnuts floated over and into the bowl.

"I think this is ready." Harry said once the crumble seemed to look as it should.

"Yes, the rest of the dish should be ready soon." Snape flicked his wand at the icebox and a container sailed out to him.

"We will finish off the ice cream tonight," Snape said as he peered into the container. 

"We should make more," suggested Harry.

Never having seen anyone make ice cream by hand, Harry watched curiously as Snape summoned the ingredients and set to work, his long fingers moving with the same fluid grace as when he brewed. Apparently realising that Harry would rather watch the process than participate, Snape didn't give Harry any tasks of his own to do.

A soft chime went off and Snape, without looking away from what he was doing or lifting a wand, opened the oven door and floated the baked cottage pie out to rest on a mat on the counter. The crumble took its place and the door closed. 

"Sit down at the table," Snape said.

Harry headed over to the table which had already been set. The pie joined him, along with a serving spoon. Snape poured the ice cream into a container and cast spells on it that Harry couldn't hear. He then stepped over to the counter where the teapot rested, and removed a vial from his robes. Without looking at Harry, but without preventing him from looking, he poured part of its contents into the teapot, then floated the tray over to the table along with two mugs. Using a strainer, he poured two cups of tea, adding a lump of sugar and a spot of milk to his own mug.

"What did you add to it?" asked Harry.

"Something to make sleep easier," answered Snape before taking a sip from his mug. "It's harmless."

Snape wouldn't have poisoned himself, so Harry added milk and sugar to his mug, doubling the amount Snape had used. He found the cup of tea produced to be perfect. He had a liberal serving of the cottage pie that had turned out even better than the ones at Hogwarts.

"How did you learn to cook better than the house-elves?" Harry asked, once he had eaten an entire plateful. "They've been cooking for years."

"I'm not any more of a chef than the Hogwarts house-elves." Snape shook his head. "Mass production lessens the quality of food while cooking for an individual or two allows one to tailor to taste. The trick to obtaining high-quality food at Hogwarts, or any other place with house-elves, is to request specialty dishes, or employ a singular elf who knows exactly what you desire. The crumble is finished." With a flick of his wand, he opened the oven door and floated the crumble over to the table. It smelled wonderful and, even though Harry had stuffed himself full of pie, he hungered to taste it.

Snape, who ate each bite with slow deliberation, still had not finished his meal. Harry waited for him, his hunger for the crumble growing by the second.

To distract himself from the smell of the food, Harry asked, "What else do you think he has guarding his Horcrux?" as he played with his mug.

"That depends on when he placed it," mused Snape. "If he has recently moved it, then the protection measures cannot be too complex as they take a while to craft and he'd suspect that a prolonged absence would call attention to his actions. Therefore, I believe the measures undertaken would be rather simple to set up. Of course, one must not confuse simplicity with ease of defeat. The Killing Curse is very simplistic yet highly effective."

"Could he have another basilisk in the Chamber?" 

"I doubt it. Considering how difficult it is to gain access to a basilisk - even for a Dark Lord - combined with the difficulty of smuggling one into Hogwarts undetected.... I don't believe he has managed it. Any creature that speaks Parseltongue would be a poor choice as you might be able to convince the creature to refrain from an attack without him there to monitor it."

"But he thinks I'm broken," said Harry.

"He placed it before he believed that," Snape reminded him. "Creatures are difficult to predict and defend against. A dragon cannot be killed with the Killing Curse - harmed yes, but not killed. Depending on the type of animal, different spells must be used." 

"So a water creature will be best defeated with flame magic or something?" asked Harry, remembering something he saw on a fantasy programme once.

Snape scoffed and shook his head. "No, there aren't different types of magic. Even the Light versus Dark magic distinction on which the Ministry loves to focus is cultural instead of based on inherent properties of magic itself. Magically, the Killing Curse is no more closely related to the Cruciatus than _Stupefy_ is."

Harry frowned. "But you said I could get out of my cuffs by having Dark Magic cast at them. If it isn't different then why can only Dark Magic break through the cuffs?"

"Dark Magic is considered Dark because of its caster's intent. Most spells and curses labeled as Dark Magic are those which are designed to hurt, impair, control, or destroy objects and others. If I were to shatter this mug through a Muggle method-" Snape snatched up the mug and threw it to the floor where it dashed to a million pieces. " _Reparo_!" The mug's pieces flew back together. "-or with an approved magical method- _Fragmentus_!" The mug burst into pieces again. " _Reparo_!" The mug repaired itself. "-the mug would be reparable no matter how many times I destroyed it. 

"However, use a destructive curse designed to prevent it from ever being repaired- _Ruptum_!" The mug shattered again. " _Reparo_!" This time the pieces did not budge from where they were lying on the floor. Snape cleared the mess with a wave of his wand. "-and the mug is lost to us forever. _Ruptum_ is merely a stronger form of _Fragmentus_ and thus requires more concentration to cast; however, it does not tax me anymore than _Fragmentus_ or an equivalently powerful Ministry-approved spell. Despite what you have been led to believe, casting so-called Dark Magic will not affect your soul or your ability to use your magic.

"The reason you must use a Dark Magic spell to destroy the cuffs, is that they must be removed completely. That's why a powerful, irreversible destruction spell must be used. Casting the Cruciatus will not remove the cuffs anymore than a _Fragmentus_."

Harry nodded. "But then why is he so . . . not human? He was like that before he started making the Horcruxes, and Dumbledore said it was because of his involvement in Dark Magic."

"There are spells which require a heavy sacrifice," Snape said. "But these powerful spells are not confined to the realm of Dark Magic. Some protection spells require a high price; sometimes even the life of the caster." His eyes flickered to Harry's scar. "The Dark Lord traded away his humanity to gain more and more power. To take the life of another with magic, no matter the method, leaves consequences. Using spells labeled Dark Magic normally requires the individual to have certain characteristics that many members of our society abhor. The Killing Curse cannot be cast unless you truly wish to take another's life, just as the Cruciatus cannot be cast unless the hate you feel is strong within you."

Harry remembered what Bellatrix had told him. "You have to mean it."

"Some people believe that any spell that requires hate is automatically more destructive because of this necessary component, but love can be destructive as well." Snape noticed Harry's puzzlement and continued. "Think of Tom Riddle's birth which occurred through the use of a love potion. Love potions are not regulated by the Ministry and the creation of such a thing is not considered Dark Magic, but isn't it a form of enslavement similar to the Imperius Curse? Doesn't it cause one to act in a way contrary to will? Since the intent is to cause 'love' rather than explicit harm, love potions are ignored by the Ministry. They choose to focus on spells and curses which are brought about by hate, but is hate necessarily a negative force? Would it be wrong for you to have enough hate in your heart to successfully cast the Killing Curse on the Dark Lord? I don't believe so. If you didn't, I think there would be something wrong with you.

"Yes, hate and anger can cloud judgement and cause reckless behaviour, but so can love and affection. Ignore these short-sighted restrictions and focus on the outcome rather than the intent. After all, does what we intend to do ever matter more than what we actually do? What does it matter if you should use 'Dark Magic' to destroy a Dark Lord? If you follow these arbitrary rules - these artificial demarcations drawn so firmly by fools who would rather cling to dogma and die like flies when an inventive, unrestrained wizard increases his power - then you will never defeat him. You will never be as powerful as you have the potential to be." At the word 'powerful,' Snape's dark eyes glittered as if he still craved power, even knowing the price of his thirst. 

Playing with his mug, Harry said, "But if someone intends to harm me, that's very different than if someone accidentally harms me." 

"Is it?" Snape's eyebrows arched. "Think of it this way. Suppose you encounter a situation where ten innocent Muggles are about to be killed. You can save them, but there's a chance the spell will strike another innocent Muggle and kill him. What would you do?"

"I'd try to save all of them," said Harry.

Snape snorted. "You are too idealistic. Often you must decide. Whom do you chose to save?"

"The ten innocent people, I guess." 

"Now suppose that, in order to save those ten individuals, you must kill that one innocent Muggle yourself. Do you kill him?"

Harry squirmed in his seat, bothered by the question. "I don't know for sure that the ten will die, right?"

"One rarely has full certainty," answered Snape, his black eyes boring into Harry's. "You don't want to kill the individual, do you? Why?"

"It's different if I kill him than if I let something that is already going to happen, happen."

"No." Snape shook his head. "See, you are focused on intent - the motives behind the actions leading to the outcome, rather than consequences. Either way he dies, does he not? Either way, you could save his life, correct?"

Harry nodded.

"Then do you understand why you should kill him to save the others if you are willing to allow him to die to save the others?"

"No, it's different," argued Harry, although he had trouble explaining why. "In the first scenario, he was going to die. In the second, I am actively killing him." 

Snape shook his head. "You are still focused on intent. Do you believe in fate - that destiny overrides choice?"

"No."

"Then your inaction kills him just as equally as your action. As is said - all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. If I stand by and watch a Muggle die when I could save him, am I not as equally guilty as if I killed him myself?"

His stomach clenching, Harry pointed out, "But I watched those girls die and I did nothing!" 

"And what was the consequence of that action? If you had saved those girls, you would have gained nothing and lost everything. Countless more lives would've been lost. They died so that thousands - millions - would live. In war, it is impossible to protect the lives of all innocents, even for the most powerful wizard. Do you think it's right to save one life at the expense of many?"

"So it's just a numbers game?" Harry shoved away his mug and folded his arms across his chest. "Kill the smallest amount to save the largest?"

"No, of course not." Snape cleared away the dishes with a wide wave of his wand. He Summoned the crumble along with two clean plates and utensils. Spooning out a generous serving for Harry, he said, "If I had to choose between a thousand innocent Muggles and you, I would choose you without a second thought. I abhor the act of murder, but I will do whatever is necessary to win this war and defeat the Dark Lord."

It was wrong to feel delight at such a murderous statement, but a surge of affection flowed through Harry. Snape would kill a thousand people to save him? But why was Snape so determined to protect him? Was he still just a means to an end, or was there more to it? "I . . . guess it was necessary, but I don't think it was right."

"You can't save everyone, Potter, and you aren't required to."

Pulling his crumble closer to him, Harry dug into it with his spoon and said, "I still think I should try." 

"Yes, within reason." Snape caught and held Harry's eyes. "But remember, you aren't perfect and you never will be. You are human. You will probably fail at some task or another, and people will die."

The words were delivered in a cold, pessimistic tone, but there was also a degree of comfort behind them. Unlike the rest of the wizarding world, Snape didn't expect him to be perfect. And, although he wanted Snape to have high expectations of him, Snape would accept him with the kinds of faults no one else ever had, and maybe never would. In Snape's eyes, he would be a hero - no matter how bloodied his hands became. No matter what he was forced to do to win the war. 

As soon as Snape finished his crumble, he sent his dishes to the sink. "To the practice room, we have time for another small session." 

Harry stood and followed him in. This time, Snape shot the spells faster and Harry concentrated on dodging. He hadn't made it to the door when Snape ended the lesson.

"I've work to do," said Snape after he'd returned the room to normal and taken Harry's glasses back. "We will begin again in the morning."

Harry waited for him to finish and then led the way out the door. He was about to turn towards the stairs to go to his cell when he decided to try to take a shower in Snape's bathroom. He didn't bother to ask permission, just walked straight into the bedroom. He half-expected to be ordered out, but no objection came. He tore off his clothes as he walked, dropping them on the floor and stepped into the shower, closing the curtain behind him.

It was far more thrilling than it should have been, but Harry had always enjoyed challenging authority. Rules were meant to be broken; boundaries, over-stepped; and limits, tested.

He took a long, hot shower and languidly stroked himself to hardness. After drying off, he strode out of the bathroom to find Snape sitting at his desk, writing. Harry cleared his throat to call attention to himself.

Snape shot a sideways glance at Harry, noticed his rampant erection, and turned his head fully towards Harry, an eyebrow arching. 

"I don't want to go back to my cell. Isn't there something better we can do?" Harry flexed the muscle above his dick, making it wave invitingly at Snape. 

Snape's eyebrow climbed higher, the quill pausing on the parchment. "Don't you have any room in that thick skull of yours for any thoughts beyond sex?"

"If you weren't so old and dried up, you'd want it too." Harry grinned at him.

Snape stood and took a step towards his bed. He turned and, with his robes blocking Harry's view, retrieved something from his bedside table. With a dramatic spin, he whirled around and advanced on Harry, his robes billowing around his legs as he marched.

It startled Harry, but he held his ground, determined not to be intimidated. Snape paused only a hand-span away from Harry, his larger frame looming over Harry's smaller one.

"You want release?" Snape asked, his voice deep, his eyes dark.

Harry's penis twitched. "Yes," he answered, his mouth unaccountably dry. 

Snape held up a flat, beige jar. "Open this."

Harry took a step back, telling himself that he only did so in order to have room to open the jar. He lifted it from Snape's fingers, unscrewed the lid, and peered past the rim to see a clear, vaguely jelly-resembling substance. He tried sniffing it, but it had no smell.

"What is this?" Harry asked, giving Snape a quizzical look. 

"Lubrication." Snape's eyes never left Harry.

Peering at it again, he said, "It's not the kind we normally use." 

"I developed that in order to engage in anal sex with you. This, I created for masturbation."

"You created a special lube just to fuck me?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow at Snape. Unable to resist, he added, "Do you do that for all your partners or just your students?"

Snape's eyes narrowed and he raised his hand to snatch the jar back, but Harry ducked out of the way, clutching the jar to his chest. He escaped to the bathroom, announcing, "I gotta try this out."

"Don't make a mess," ordered Snape before he returned to his desk. 

Harry sat on the toilet and set the jar by his feet. Dipping his fingers in the warm goo, he touched a finger to his penis, smearing a small amount down his shaft. The goo caused a warm, tingling feeling. It felt good, but not particularly impressive. He waited for the substances inside of it to kick in, but, after several minutes of waiting, nothing happened. Disappointed, he slicked up his dick to wank off his normal way. It was a very nice lube - slippery and slick but not sticky or too wet - but he had expected more from a Potions Master like Snape.

After covering his dick in the smooth substance, he slid his hand from the tip of his penis all the way down to the base and back up again. Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the toilet as his hand found the familiar rhythm. He was just getting into it, when he realised something was squeezing his penis that wasn't his hand. His eyes flew open and he stared around the room, expecting to see Snape, but Snape was nowhere in sight. The feeling continued as if a ghost hand was now sliding up and down his penis. He glanced down but didn't see anything. _What the fuck?_

The lubrication! Harry bolted upright as realisation hit him. He took more of the lube and smeared it over a nipple. A warm tingling sensation flowed through the small nub, making it harden, but nothing else happened. He scooped up more goop and smeared it over his other nipple, this time pinching it after he had applied the lubrication. After he removed his fingers, the pinching sensation remained, the potion imitating what his fingers had done.

Holy shit! Harry circled his thumb and forefinger and worked himself using only the foreskin, sliding over the head of his penis while the ghost hand from the lubrication drifted up and down his shaft. With the pinching on his nipple, it was like having four hands, all working him straight to completion.

Overwhelmed, Harry came hard, his hand clenched tight around the base of his dick as he spilled himself. After he had finished spurting and caught his breath, he cleaned up the semen with toilet paper and staggered over to the sink. He washed himself clean, careful to remove every trace of the potion. Once he had wiped away all of the lubrication, he returned to the toilet. Dipping his fingers in the lube, he reapplied it to his nipples, pinching them just the way he liked it. He coated his balls next, lightly rolling them in his hands. Finally, he leaned back and pulled down his foreskin with his non-lube-covered hand. Once he had worked himself to full hardness, he coated his penis with the lubrication and, placing one hand atop the other, squeezed them both rhythmically around his cock. 

Harry removed his hands and wiped them clean on the towel in the rack beside the shower. He gripped his balls with his left hand and rubbed the area behind and under them, while his right teased the head of his cock. "Fuck!" Never had he had such a perfect handjob. It was even better than when Snape wanked him.

He held himself off until his balls ached and his cock twitched furiously. Unable to hold in his pleasure any longer, he relinquished control, tightened his grip, and let himself go. A shiver surged throughout his entire body as he came, splashing hot spunk all over his torso. Once he could breathe properly again, he stepped into the shower to clean himself off, his manhood quiescent between his legs.

As soon as Harry finished drying himself off, he staggered out of the bathroom and collapsed on the bed. "Bloody hell, that was brilliant!"

Snape glanced up from the parchment and smirked. "I developed it when I was a student at Hogwarts." 

"How did you know how to make it?"

"The same way I make any potion - knowledge of ingredients, preparation, and, of course, trial and error."

Harry sat up, raising a brow at Snape. "Trial and error? You're brave. I'd never experiment on my dick. Do you have different types?"

"Yes, but now you are going back to your cage. I must brew."

Harry swung his legs over the edge of the bed and got to his feet. "I don't see why I'm still banned from the potions lab. I could help you brew quicker."

"You _want_ to brew?" Snape motioned for Harry to walk in front of him out his bedroom door. 

Harry walked out the door and headed down to the cellar. "I'll even skin flobberworms if it means going someplace unusual."

"I'll speak to the Dark Lord," said Snape.

"'Night!" Harry strode into his cell. 

After completing his nightly toiletry, he sprawled out on his bed, and fell asleep. 

~

He was standing in front of the wall from his dreams.

He gathered all his magic and thrust it at the door. " _Ruptum_!"

The door shattered, spraying light and stone. Harry buried his head in his arm to protect it from the shrapnel. When he no longer heard the clatter of stone, he lifted his head and saw a gaping, dusty hole where the door had been. Stepping over broken rocks, he climbed into a large room well-lit with hundreds of candles. A myriad of tables in various shapes and sizes dotted the edges of the room, holding iridescent glass containers filled with multi-coloured liquids. Light from the candles struck the vials, sprinkling colour across the darkly carpeted floor, the walls of stone, and the tall, pale, dark-haired boy who stood in the centre of the room.

"I've been waiting for you, Harry," said the boy. 

Harry stared at the figure before him. Tom Riddle looked exactly the same as he had when Harry had seen him in the Chamber of Secrets - handsome and tall with an air of elegance. 

"Come now, Harry." Tom swept towards him, his arms open as though he was about to hug Harry. "I know we got off to a bad start, but there is no reason to be so cold to me."

Harry threw his arm forward. " _Avada Kedavra_!" The magic surged through his arm only to fizzle at his finger tips.

Tom threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I won't hurt you; in fact, I'm here to help you."

"Help me?" Harry would physically murder the bastard if he had to. He charged forward, running across the room towards Tom. Bars shot out of the ground, blocking his path. "What the hell?" As he turned around, more appeared, enclosing him in a small cell. 

"It doesn't need to be like this, Harry. Calm down and listen to me."

"Like hell I'm listening to you, you bastard! You-"

Tom flicked his hand and Harry's lips sealed shut. Harry fell to his knees, clawing at his mouth.

"Severus really should be more heavy-handed with you. If I were him, I would've given you a greater punishment for your little stunt in the kitchen earlier today."

Harry's heart tightened with alarm. How did he know about that? Oh god, it was all over. He needed to get out of here and warn Snape.

Tom smiled. "Yes, I know all about Severus. I must confess to you, I never would have imagined it. Of all my servants, he seemed the most faithful. I won't underestimate the strength of his affection again, I promise you that." He looked at Harry again, his eyes filled with more amusement than malice. It terrified Harry more somehow, this raw display of power combined with delight rather than anger. "I suppose I owe you an explanation. After all, I know everything there is to know about you, but you know nothing at all about me."

He waved his hand and the cage bars melted. Harry sprung at him, his fists flying towards Tom's face. Bands wrapped around his arms and pulled him back, yanking him into a soft chair. The bands tied his wrists to the edges of the armchair and more wrapped around his legs, spreading them apart, and binding his ankles to the front legs of the chair.

"I would offer you tea but I've no desire to associate myself with Lucius." Tom's voice darkened on Malfoy's name and his eyes narrowed. With flashing eyes, he said, "We'll kill him first." 

Kill Lucius? Why the hell would Voldemort want to kill Lucius?

Tom strode forward and bent down before Harry. Harry lunged forward in his chair, to do what, he didn't know, but he had to attack. Tom chuckled and stroked a hand down the side of Harry's face, running his fingers over Harry's sewn-shut lips. Harry jerked away, trying to pull his head out of Tom's reach, but there was nowhere for him to go. He settled for glaring daggers as he tore at his bonds. He'd tear him to shreds. He'd beat him to a pulp. He'd-.

"So much fire. You remind me of myself. Severus did too, did you know that? When I first saw him, I knew he would be great. He was young then - with more ideas than sense. I originally had to keep him on the edge of my circle to prevent the more powerful Purebloods from revolting. I always knew he'd eventually stand beside me and bring me glory." Tom pushed up Harry's chin, examining his face as if it were a painting. He seemed unconcerned about Harry's anger; at how Harry growled deep in his throat and clawed at the chair. In the same casual tone, he said, "I underestimated his feelings for her. I thought he was above those petty, biological concerns, but love is a weakness for many."

Harry mumbled, "I'm going to kill you," through his sealed lips.

Tom released Harry's chin. "Ah yes, Dumbledore did tell you that your ability to love was your greatest weapon, did he not?" Tom smirked. "He was mistaken about a great many things though. You see, Harry...." Tom tilted his head, examining Harry as if he were a new species of magical creature which had just been discovered. "I seem to have fallen in love with you."

Harry choked. He tried to cough, but with his lips glued, he couldn't do it, and his body shook as he gasped for air through his nose. The seal binding his lips opened and Harry gulped in deep gobs of breath. His heart pounding, he glanced over at Tom who waved a throne into appearance and took a seat.

"I know, it seems ridiculous, doesn't it?" said Tom casually. "I scarcely believe it myself sometimes. I thought myself to be incapable of those feelings, yet I find myself wanting to harm those who hurt you, and reward those who express concern for you. As you can imagine, it is quite disconcerting."

Of all the things Harry had ever expected to hear from Tom, that confession was not one of them. "You're _mad_."

Tom continued as if he hadn't heard Harry. "I have not been one to care about how others are treated, but I fill with rage every time they hurt you, despite all my attempts to enjoy your pain. It is as if they dare to hurt me." His hands tightened into fists and, in a soft, dangerous voice, he added, "Not many have dared to hurt me." 

Harry stared at him. What the hell was going on? He didn't know what to think. It was all too crazy and strange, like some bad movie where the villain suddenly decided to switch teams in the middle of the film.

"When those cuffs were placed on you, the connection between our souls ripped open and your memories poured into me. For weeks I was assaulted with visions, emotions, and experiences from a life outside my own. I watched your relatives abuse you. I experienced your first Quidditch victory. I felt your pain in the graveyard. Through every torture session I've been with you. It was most disorienting and for a while, I could do nothing but just _feel_. It was some time before I could manipulate your dreams in order to speak with you. I suspect that he has been drugging you - giving you potions to prevent me from accessing your mind at night. Fortunately for us both, he slipped up and I was able to show you the doors in the laundry room."

"That was you," whispered Harry, stilling as he realised what those memories meant. "In the house. You were that figure in my cell!"

"Yes." Tom nodded gravely. "That was the extent of my abilities then." A sly smile graced his lips. "Obviously, I have improved." He stood and the throne melted into the floor. A small, circular table rose between Harry's feet, rising to his chest level. "I want to help you escape this prison, Harry. I can show you how." He waved his hand over the table and a glass filed with dark red liquid appeared upon its surface. "But first, I need your help."

Harry cleared his throat. "Did Snape put you up to this? Is this some sort of trick? Are you Snape? What the hell is this? Am I dreaming? Fuck. This is too fucking strange."

"It's not a dream, Harry. I called you here, to my cell within the prison which confines the two of us. I know you love him, Harry, but you should not trust him."

"What are you talking about? I don't love Snape!"

Tom arched his eyebrows at Harry. "In denial still? I swear, watching the two of you is worse than watching a pair of besotted third years. The way you dance around each other, hiding your true emotions behind the thinnest veneer of disdain and indifference that even a child could see through.... It grows ever tiring to me. Use the few brain cells you seem to possess and acknowledge how your libido has taken control of you." He shook his head. "This is why I never allowed myself to give in to sexual feelings or pleasure. It makes complete and utter fools of even the best of us."

"So I fuck around with Snape." Harry shrugged as nonchalantly as he could manage with his hands bound. "Big deal. Loads of guys do it in prison."

Tom swooped forward, slamming his hands on the table and making the glass jump and spilling some of the dark red liquid on the table. "Stop being so thickheaded and think. What matters is that he loves you - that he will kill for you. You must take control of him, Harry. He has told you many lies, many of them lies of omission. He made these walls," Tom raised his hands, motioning to the brick walls around them, "that trap your magic. Break through these, and you will have your magic again."

"The fucking cuffs you put on me stop me from accessing my magic!" shouted Harry. "Take them off if you want me to get it back!" 

"I can't take them off. I would've done so already if I had the power." Tom leaned forward again and placed his hands on the table. "Listen to me, Harry. You've fallen into his lies. Tell me, why are you here?" 

"I don't fucking know. I don't know where the hell I am!"

Tom leaned even closer, his dark eyes glittering. "Why are you still in this prison?"

"I'm going to destroy you." Harry leapt forward in his chair, fighting the bonds. "I'm go-"

Tom waved his hand, once again sealing shut Harry's lips. "You've been here for months, yet you still trust him? Haven't you wondered why he hasn't told you his plan? Why he distracts you whenever you ask pointed questions about what the future brings? Hasn't he been promising a few more days for a while now? How many more days will it be before you finally realise he'll never let you go?"

Harry's defence of Snape died on his tongue. Why didn't he know the final plans? He knew he had asked about them several times, yet he'd never heard them. Snape had said that he wanted Harry to keep the element of surprise, but didn't he always have excuses? Doubts crowded his head like giant storm clouds.

Tom smiled. "Haven't you ever wondered why you've been able to Occlude without magic? Why you heal so fast - faster than normal even with the aid of his potions? How you can even occasionally throw off spells cast upon you?"

Harry sat, dumbfounded. He hadn't ever noticed those peculiarities, much less thought about them. Could it possibly be true? He had become amazingly adept at identifying spells in a very short time for someone who had no magic. But even if he did have his magic, what did it all mean? No, it had to be a lie. This had to be some sort of trick. This was Tom Riddle, the future Voldemort. He would not fall for his lies the way Snape had.

"Your magic is not blocked from you," said Tom, a heated excitement in his voice. "It's walled up within you. These walls have sealed your magic so that even I can't access it. They-"

Harry growled.

"Harry, I know that you may find it difficult to trust me based upon our past, but-" 

Harry growled deeper in his throat, flexing his muscles.

"I could have shown you any face you desired to see, spun you whatever lies I thought would make you most agreeable, but I have chosen to be honest with you." His eyes narrowed. "Do not make me regret it."

"Fuck you," said Harry behind his lips.

"Will you listen to reason?"

Harry shook his head vehemently.

Tom released Harry's mouth. "Think-"

"I don't care what the fuck you say. The walls are staying."

"Listen to me! We will both be destroyed unless-!"

"Shut it," Harry interrupted, unwilling to sit through bullshit. "I'm not listening to a fucking thing you say. Take your drink, shove it up your arse and leave me the fuck alone."

Magic flared in Tom's eyes and he clenched his fists as if he wanted nothing more than to slam them into Harry's face. "Listen to me, you stupid brat!"

"Snape? What the hell is this? Stay the fuck out of my dreams! If you want something, just ask for it."

Tom slashed the air with his hand and Harry's mouth sealed shut again. His eyes wide, his teeth bared, his chest rising and falling with quick breaths, he opened his mouth and unleashed a flood of angry words. "You don't believe me? Fine. Go ask him why he's never told you that you still retain your magic. Ask him for your parents' photo album. Ask him why you are still in this prison after all these months. Ask him why he needs to have the Elder Wand instead of you. Ask him if the laundry room contains doors leading outside and see if he doesn't lie to your face. If his answers satisfy you, then you will always be his puppet to manipulate and control. If he doesn't try to steal your memories again - if you can think for yourself for once, question his authority and fight to save your life - then return to me." The table in front of Harry disappeared and Tom surged forward, thrusting his hands out to push Harry back against the chair. Tom's magic flowed into him, filling him with an electric charge. His hair stood on end as his entire world went white, the magic so intense, it seemed to push him from his body.

When his vision returned to him, he was lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling. Harry touched his face, to make sure he still existed. Whatever had just happened, it hadn't been a dream. It was as if he had somehow been sucked back into the Chamber of Secrets to deal with the Horcrux hidden in the diary all over again. A memory tugged at the corner of his mind. What was it that Dumbledore had said then? That Voldemort had transferred some of his powers to him. That Voldemort had put a bit of himself inside of him.

Harry rolled out of bed and stumbled towards the sink. He ran the water until it chilled his hands, then splashed it on his face until it soaked his hair and dripped down his back. With shaking fingers, he turned off the taps and reached for the towel, his fingertips barely scraping at the cloth. His knees crumbled and he collapsed to the floor.

Why was he still alive, kept here in this prison for all these months instead of killed? Why did Voldemort command the Death Eaters not to hurt him outside of his presence? Why did he have this strange connection to Voldemort: a scar that had once pained him, twinned cuffs that could contain his magic completely, and an uncanny ability to survive curses that would have killed anybody else?

No matter how he tried to rationalise it, he couldn't explain it away. Every path he took drew him inexplicably back to the same unwanted conclusion. He had a Horcrux living inside of him. 

 

[[I always get a giggle when I read that line in _Chamber of Secrets_  
 _“Voldemort put a bit of himself in_ me _?” Harry said, thunderstruck._

I have a colleague who studies the neuroscience of morality. He tells me that when brain scans are done on people contemplating the 'trolley delimma' (which is what Snape has given to Harry), different parts of the brain activate for the two different scenarios. The one in which you must indirectly kill an individual to save more is contemplated with the parts of the brain that are considered more 'human' and 'evolved' and usually subjects decide to kill the one to save the many. However, the situation where you must kill the one to save the many fires up the more 'primitive' brain that is shared with many of our fellow primates. The first scenario is decided with logic, while the second is usually decided with emotion.]]


	56. Chapter 56

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

The library door opened and Snape stepped into the hallway. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

Everything. Everything was wrong. "I...." Harry couldn't say it. The words died in his throat. How could he say it? "I feel sick."

Snape strode through the bars, a flick of his wand sending the table scurrying out of his way. He knelt before Harry, his dark eyes examining Harry's face. A warm hand rose up and pressed against Harry's forehead. His magic pushed into Harry, flowing through him. Snape frowned and said, "Can you stand?"

Momentarily unable to find his voice, Harry nodded. He clasped the offered arm and pulled himself to his feet. Swaying, he allowed himself to lean on Snape, as Snape led him out of his cell.

"Do I have my magic?" he asked. "Is it trapped inside of me?"

"I believe so." Snape's eyes remained focused on their path. "It is impossible to know either way at the moment."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why would I?" Snape steered Harry towards the kitchen. "It is a hypothesis, not a known fact, and you've surmised the same as I on your own. Do you believe it to be the source of your illness?"

"No. I-" That wasn't entirely true, was it? His magic and a Horcrux were trapped inside of him. How could he go on as before knowing that? "I don't know."

Snape transfigured several of the kitchen chairs into a sofa. Harry dropped down onto it, sprawling out on the soft cushions. Snape swept away from him towards the stove.

"If you do possess your magic," said Snape, as he called forth ingredients and utensils, "I believe it would be in your best interest to try not to consciously use it unless you are in mortal peril. As no one has ever had their magic contained quite like the Dark Lord has restricted yours, there are many effects I cannot predict. For example, he may be able to draw off your power when you attempt to use your magic in close proximity to him. It is unlikely, but we must consider it."

Was that how the Horcrux had gained so much power? Had it grown stronger every time he'd tried to use his magic? Harry's stomach turned. How could he have lived all these years without even guessing a bit of Voldemort was living inside of him? But it made sense. It was why he could speak Parseltongue. It was why he had been able to see what Voldemort saw. It was why Voldemort wanted him to live.

Had Dumbledore always known? Was that just all part of the plan? Maybe this whole Horcrux hunt hadn't been set up to be successful.... 

A wave of nausea washed over him and he rolled over to stick his head over the edge of the sofa. Snape swept over and gently helped him upright. He pushed back Harry's fringe as he retrieved a potion with his other hand. Unable to meet the dark eyes, Harry closed his as he accepted a few swigs of the potion. 

Almost instantly, his stomach calmed and he relaxed back against the cushions. Snape pressed the bottle into Harry's hand. "Drink more of this should you feel nauseated again."

Nodding, Harry opened his eyes to see him return to his cooking. 

"What made you suspect that your magic is contained within you?" asked Snape in a tone that was far too casual.

"I tried to use it," lied Harry. "But I turned it inward this time."

"I trust you now know better than to try that again?"

"Yeah, I won't." Harry watched Snape dice roots, his long, elegant fingers moving in a steady, calming rhythm. The only thing Tom had said that Harry accepted to be probably true was that Snape loved him. And that was why he wouldn't tell him about the Horcrux. If Snape already knew, he had kept the information from him - possibly to try to protect him. If Snape didn't know, then he couldn't tell him because the Potions Master would surely try to stop what he needed to do. 

When Snape finished brewing the brothy soup, he carried it over to Harry, conjuring a tray for him to set the bowl on. Snape Summoned a book to read and they sat together, Harry sipping his soup and Snape reading. After he'd finished his soup, Harry set the tray on the floor and leaned against Snape's shoulder, closing his eyes.

Snape sat shock still for a moment and then he relaxed, wiggling his arm out from under Harry. He placed his hand on Harry's forehead to check the temperature and on Harry's neck to check his pulse. His hand drifted down over Harry's shoulder and across his arm, moving slowly, hesitantly, as if he expected to be pushed away at any moment. He finally settled in the valley of Harry's waist, his fingers curling around Harry's side. It was strange how such a light, simple touch could leave Harry feeling so enclosed and protected. For, despite all his faults, his lies, his manipulations, Snape loved him. And that was enough, for now.

~

The smell of cooking food woke Harry. He pushed back the blanket covering him and sat up, blinking his eyes at what looked to be a hundred owls of all shapes and sizes swooping about the kitchen. He closed his eyes and rubbed them with his fists, and when he opened them again, the shapes were still flying every which way.

"Don't come closer, I'm cooking," said the dark blur in the centre that was Snape.

"That's cooking?" asked Harry, staring in wonder once he realised those flying objects were jars of spices; vegetables, pots, pans, and . . . a toaster? It looked as if Snape stood in the centre of a hurricane rather than the midst of food production.

"It is far more efficient to produce all meals for the day at the same time than to produce each meal individually." The oven door flopped open, two dishes sailed in, and it closed with a snap, swallowing the dishes. On the other side of the kitchen, a door opened and bowls stacked themselves before leaping up to sit on the shelf.

"Juice?" A cup floated across the room and Harry shot out a hand to grab it as he stood. Snape flicked his wand towards the sofa and transformed it back into chairs.

They ate together in silence. Harry felt Snape's eyes on him throughout the meal, but he focused on his plate. 

When Harry was finished, he pushed away his empty dishes, leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms and said, "I want to know the plan." Snape opened his mouth to speak, but Harry didn't let him. "I know you don't think I should hear it, or you've got five million ideas and I can't possibly fit them all in my head, or something else, but this is my life - maybe my death - and I have the right to know what's going to happen. You think I'm going to fuck it up, but couldn't I fuck it up more by not knowing? Wasn't that the biggest problem at Hogwarts? You and Dumbledore always kept these secrets from me, thinking that it made me safe, thinking that it protected me and how many times did I end up in danger anyway? You of all people should know how dangerous it is to be ignorant." Having drawn the line, Harry waited for Snape to decide on which side he wished to be. He knew that he couldn't force Snape towards a decision - they both knew he'd do whatever was required to defeat Voldemort, even if it was blindly following an unknown plan. But he needed Snape to acknowledge him as an equal.

"Potter," said Snape in a cool, low voice, and Harry's heart dropped down to his stomach. "I'm delighted to hear you acknowledge your general ineptitude."

The fucking bastard! Why did he have to be such an arsehole? Harry frowned; what he wanted to know wasn't unreasonable. He pushed back his chair and slammed his hands down on the table. Snape's eyebrows rose, but he made no move to retaliate and a flurry of words burst from Harry.

"Fine, then. We'll follow _my_ plan. Here's what we're going to do. You'll get yourself replaced as my guard. You'll tell Voldemort that you figured out how to remove my soul, but you need to collect some fresh ingredients by hand. We'll tell the Order to come break me out, I'll go get the Horcrux while you get the Elder Wand, and then, after I have the Horcrux, I'll return here alone. I'll say you told me to come back if they rescued me. We'll do the ceremony, you'll get him to possess my body, and then you'll kill me." It was a good, reasonable plan and Snape had no reason at all to object to it.

Snape waved his fingers, motioning for Harry to sit back down. "I have a better one. I'll remove myself, within two days in fact, but you'll remain here. There is no need for me to obtain the Elder Wand. If it should appear, we'll try to take it, but we must focus on the Horcruxes. I'll search for the Diadem in Hogwarts-"

No. He needed to go there. "I've been in there. I know-"

"And you think I wouldn't take a look at a secret location built by Slytherin himself?" Snape asked, his eyebrows pricking. "I've worked with the Dark Lord for years, so I know how to better anticipate what traps lie in wait."

Harry dropped down into his chair, his arms crossed. "He'll have someone trailing you and if you go to Hogwarts, he'll think you are going for the Diadem. He'll move it, or kill you."

"He wouldn't dare move it; not while I'm about. He needs me for the ceremony."

"What if he no longer wants to do the ceremony? What if he decides it's too much trouble to keep me around?"

"I have the ceremony planned within five days time. He may change his mind in that short time, but it is highly unlikely. If I must, I'll fight for my life."

Harry bit his lip. If Voldemort did suspect Snape, there seemed to be little chance that they'd defeat him. "If you fight him, he'll suspect that we are working together just like what Avery said."

"Not necessarily." Snape finished his tea and pushed the mug to the side. "Not if I pretend I wish to control you and that is why I fight him."

Harry frowned. "Would he believe that though?"

Snape titled his head, his eyes half-lidded. "It is very probable. Within the next two days, we'll begin the preparation for the soul removal ceremony, which cannot be conducted until all the ingredients are ready. Once a flower we need blooms, I'll bring you to my lab and we'll conduct the first ceremony there in order to prevent your death in the second ceremony."

He'd never heard any of this before! Harry leaned forward, frowning. "Wait, hold on a second. What's happening?"

Snape laced his fingers on the tabletop. "After I'll have left here and destroyed the Diadem, I'll return and begin a soul-removal ceremony. During the ceremony, I'll put you in a state of cardiac arrest, informing him that you must die in order for the soul to be removed. He'll cast the Killing Curse with the intention of destroying your soul. I'll restore your 'body' and invite him to try to possess you in order to confirm that your soul no longer resides in your flesh. When he leaves his body, I'll destroy it. He'll be unable to remain in your body for a long period of time and will try to escape, but he'll have no Horcruxes left and no body to return to. In order to ensure that you'll not die during the ceremony, I'll give you a potion to take right before the sacrifice begins."

There was a major flaw in that plan of which Harry had only recently become aware. "And what if he can possess my body?" He would not live to see Voldemort possess his body. He could think of no greater horror to be trapped inside himself and unable to do anything but watch as Voldemort turned the world to ruins. It would be almost as horrible if Voldemort took over completely, confusing Harry's allies and using Harry's face to commit terrible acts. He would'nt stand for it - no matter what the cost.

Snape leaned forward, his black eyes glittering. "Then I'll do what needs to be done."

Harry didn't doubt it, but still, he needed to hear it again. "Promise me that you'll kill him. That you'll do everything you can to destroy every last bit of him. I swear to you, I will do the same." He locked eyes with Snape.

Snape's intense black eyes never left his. "I promise you, he will be destroyed, every single last Horcrux. Now-" Snape stood. "Talk is nothing without action."

Harry pushed back his chair and walked to the practice room. "What will I be doing today?"

"More ward detection training," said Snape as he led the way.

"And wha-" Harry nearly stepped on a ward. He hopped backwards, trying to avoid setting off the trigger when Snape whipped out his wand and shot a spell and Harry rolled to dodge it, but then Snape shot another spell in the direction Harry had dodged and the world turned black.

"Oi!" he yelled. "Take this off me!"

A spell raced towards him, but it wasn't _Finite Incantatem_ and Harry ducked, trying to remember the direction of the practice room. There he'd have space; there he wouldn't be in this tiny hallway, about to knock his head against the walls.

He weaved and dodged, crawling towards the practice room. He hated the blindness, he hated the walls which he had to treat almost like wards because he couldn't afford to hurt himself, and he hated that Snape knew he disliked _Obscuro_ and cast it on him anyway. 

Sliding to the side, his hand pressed into a corner and Harry ran into the practice room. A giant ward suddenly appeared before him and he stepped backwards, landing on his foot wrong and falling off balance. He caught himself with one hand flat against the floor, but then he had to roll and a spider web trapped his left arm to the floor.

"What the?" Harry tried to rip his arm away but it held like glue, pinning him to the floor. "Snape!" Another web appeared over his right ankle, preventing him from moving his leg.

"STOP IT!" he yelled, his heart pounding, trying to claw its way out of his chest.

"Calm down," whispered Snape, his fingers ghosting through Harry's hair at the top of his scalp.

Harry jerked back his head. "No! Stop it! I hate this!" He tried again to yank his arm out from whatever held it in place, to turn, to shift into a position of attack, but the spider webs refused to yield enough.

"Shh...."

Fingers ran down the side of Harry's cheek and Harry grabbed at the hand, but it vanished.

He was going to punch that arsehole as soon as he was free. "Snape, you fucking-!"

"Potter, if you let your fear control you, you will not be able to concentrate."

"YOU FUCKING-!"

"Stop." Harry felt Snape's body shift and then a hand pushed his shoulder to the floor. Harry grabbed onto Snape's arm with his hand, his fingers digging into the fabric. "Relax."

"How can I fucking relax when _I can't see a fucking thing_?"

"You can hear, can't you?" Snape's finger traced the outer edge of Harry's ear.

"Yes, I can hear! I can feel, I can smell, I can taste, but I can't bloody see!"

"Control your emotions through your body." Snape's hand pressed flat against his chest, the warmth from the fingers seeping into his chest. "Don't breathe here." The fingers slid, rippling over his torso as they drifted down to pause above his navel. "Breathe here."

Harry squeezed his blind eyes shut and focused on breathing with his gut, rather than his lungs.

"In," Snape's low, hypnotic voice rolled over him. "1. 2. 3. Out. 1. 2. 3. In. 1. 2. 3...."

Harry focused on the voice, his breath, and the numbers. It was getting easier to breathe, each exhalation a release of tension, easing the tightness in his lungs, and his guts.

"Now place your right hand over your heart."

Harry released Snape's sleeve and flattened his hand over his heart. His fingers were so cold at the tips, but then Snape's other warm hand pressed over the top of his. "Do you feel your heart rate?"

Harry felt it pound beneath his palm. "Yes." He nodded.

"Now feel it slow. With each exhalation, release tension."

"Right," said Harry. Even though he was pinned and blind, the more he concentrated on relaxing, the less his heart pounded out of control .

Snape's hands lifted, leaving him, and a spike of fear returned, but Harry focused on his breath, his heart rate, and it didn't matter as much that he couldn't see.

"Count in your head," instructed Snape in a soft voice. "The body reacts first to a frightening stimulus and then the mental reaction occurs. Calm your body to calm your mind. Are you relaxed?"

"Yes..."

"Now, I will release you from the webs, but not the blindness. Keep counting."

Harry repeated the numbers in his head and, when the webs lifted, he jumped to his feet.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah." Harry wiped his palms on his thighs.

When the spells came, the fear pulsed thick in his stomach, but he said the numbers in his head, breathing deeply while he dodged. It worked at first, but he was exhausting himself, shouldn't he need more air? And then he ran straight through a ward and the numbers fled his head.

"Concentrate!" barked Snape.

But he couldn't. Not while blind, trying to dodge wards, and shot at from all different angles.

"Slow down," he called to the room, unsure of Snape's location.

"Breathe," came Snape's retort.

He was breathing, but it wasn't working. "This is impossible!" Harry ran until a ward blocked his path. He tried to dodge to his right, but a ward stopped him there and to his left, and behind him. He had been boxed in. "STOP! STOP NOW!"

"Calm-"

Harry whirled to face Snape. "DON'T YOU-"

"POTTER!" The ward before him vanished and strong hands grabbed his upper arms.

Harry instinctively jerked backwards, kicking his leg as he yanked his arms out of Snape's grasp and they both fell, the wards disappearing and Snape landing on top of him. Snape shifted away before Harry could push him off and grabbed Harry's arm, pulling him up to a sitting position. He splayed his hand across Harry's chest.

"You're out of control. Focus on breathing."

"You put me in a box!"

"You let yourself become too panicked to realise you were not completely encased."

"What do you want me to do now? Fly?" Harry asked snidely as he shoved Snape's hand away.

"If you had ducked and rolled, you would've found yourself clear," explained Snape in a measured tone.

"Piss off." Harry rolled his eyes. "How am I supposed to know that?"

Snape placed his hand on Harry's cheek, restoring his vision. "Why do you fear being blind?"

Harry blinked as Snape's features swam into focus. "It's just stupid to train that way since they won't be shooting that spell."

"The point is to teach you to rely on your other senses. Lie down and close your eyes."

Harry sighed but stretched out, closing his eyes. He didn't mind this at all; he could open his eyes any second.

Snape's fingers scratched through the bit of hair on Harry's chest. "You breathe too much here." When Harry shifted his breathing, counting again, Snape added, "Remember, almost every situation has an escape. The important thing is to remain calm enough to search or wait for it. If you allow your fear to overwhelm you, you will never find the point of escape."

"I faced him before, you know. I can do this. When I'm out there, it'll be different."

"You were a child then, without understanding of the force you faced or the full consequences of your actions. You would have to be stupid or emotionless not to feel fear when confronting him and his followers for the last time." Snape lifted his hand, brushing aside bits of Harry's fringe. "Fear in the mind is a poison, but fear is not a useless emotion. The physical reactions can cause an adrenaline rush with shortened response time, a dulled sense of pain, and greater strength among other things. What you must do, is learn to focus your fear so that it becomes your ally instead of your weakness."

"I thought I was supposed to calm my body?"

"There are many techniques - everyone is different. You might find it best to hold onto your fear in the midst of combat and dodging, and use the relaxation technique when you are not fighting or escaping. Are you calm?" Snape pressed two fingers into Harry's neck, checking the pulse.

"Yeah."

In a calm, steady voice Snape said, "I'll take away your sight and hearing, and then I'll chain you to the floor before shooting spells at you. I'll try to panic you and, if I don't believe you are sufficiently scared, I'll escalate the situation until you are. This time, instead of trying to fight your fear, embrace it." Snape's fingers curled around Harry's wrist, gently tugging him upwards. "Stand."

Harry opened his eyes and stood, clenching and unclenching his fists. Being blind and deaf while spells raced towards him did not sound enjoyable at all, but he knew he needed to learn to deal with his fear.

Snape watched him with a neutral expression, waiting for Harry to agree.

Harry nodded towards him. "I'm ready."

Snape placed his hands on Harry's shoulders, squeezing lightly. "I'll hear your voice even though you won't be able to. But I won't always acknowledge your requests."

It should've been a terrifying thing to hear, but some of the tightness in Harry's gut eased. Dumbledore had always tried to protect Harry; even from himself, but Snape wouldn't let anything, including Harry, get in the way of his training. He wanted, needed, to be pushed beyond his limits. He had let that stupid spell get under his skin more than anything else, even Voldemort, which made absolutely no sense. "I understand."

And so, when Snape took away his hearing and vision and cast the spells, Harry embraced his fear, and forced it, as best he could, into anger. It seemed to work, until Snape trapped him in a tangled mess of thick protection wards through which he had to crawl. They shrank around him more and more until he was forced to propel himself forward by pushing with his feet and dragging himself on his elbows. 

And then water poured in. Harry pushed hard, propelling himself forward into a ward. Wait, where was the exit? Harry rolled onto his back and felt around the impossibly small passageway for an exit as the water rose and rose and his heart pounded in his head, a beat so loud he couldn't think. But the wards were solid and, even though he pushed at the edges of them where they ran into each other, he had no way of escape.

He couldn't get out! The water rose and rose. He would drown if it got any higher! When the water had almost reached the top, he didn't know what else to do other than escape. Gulping down a huge lungful of air just before the entire passage filled, he braced himself and shoved all his fear, anger, magic into the ward.

All of the wards and the water vanished and he lay, dry and free. Harry gulped in huge lungfuls of air and counted in his head, digging his fingers into the plush carpet to assure himself that he was free of the water. Even though he hadn't actually swallowed any water and hadn't been in any danger, his body had trouble accepting that belief and, for a moment, he could do nothing but lie there, trying to convince himself that he hadn't nearly drowned.

Snape's fingers brushed down his cheek, restoring his vision and hearing. As the darkness vanished, he saw Snape bent over him.

"Don't ever try to use your magic."

"Look," said Harry, once he could speak. "If you- if you push me, I'm going to - react."

Snape shook his head and stood. "Use your fear, don't let it use you."

Harry sat up and glared at Snape. "I was using it! What the hell was I supposed to do?" 

"You needed to crawl backwards to-"

"That's bullshit!" Harry propelled himself to his feet. "I was going to drown!"

"How stupid do you think I am?" Snape rolled his eyes. "I would never let you drown."

"But you wanted me to think that! You said you wanted me to be as terrified as possible. If you want to teach me how to act when I think I'm dying, then I'm going to think I'm dying and react!"

The dark eyes narrowed. "I already warned you not to try to use your magic."

Harry clenched his fists, glaring back at Snape. "I'm not like you. I can't be you! Let me try and figure out how to do this as _me_."

Snape just stared back.

Harry closed his eyes and said, "I'm ready. Do it again."

"Very well. _Obscuro_."

They trained for hours, until Snape stopped for lunch and, by that time, Harry had had enough for the day. It was impossible to remove his fear, suppress it, or ignore it until after the danger had passed. His heart pounded in his chest, his breath shortened, and his mind screamed at him to stop, but he worked through it. Sometimes, the fear would storm through him only after the danger had passed and he could do nothing but lie on the floor and try to convince his body that he wasn't dying.

Then, Snape would splay his fingers across Harry's chest or stomach and speak softly but firmly, his words an anchor. Even at the worst of it, when Snape cast a spell that stripped him of every sense, and he couldn't even feel his heart beat because he was just a mind in empty darkness, able to think but nothing else, as soon as Snape's strong hands curled around his arms, the fear poured out of him.

He had collapsed against Snape, letting Snape talk and soothe the fear out of him. With anyone else, it might've been shameful or a display of weakness, but Snape had never seemed more proud of him, even when he said that he'd had enough for now. Afterwards, as they cooked, Snape said, "You lasted much longer than Avery." 

"How long did he last?" Harry asked as he peeled the shrimp.

Snape snorted in derision. "He cried within seconds and Apparated straight to his father as soon as I released him."

Harry laughed. "How do you get out of that spell, anyway?"

"Prevent the spell from being cast. There is no defence against it and the victim inevitably loses sanity after a certain amount of time. However, it is tasking to maintain. After it has been cast upon you, your only strategy is to try and hold on as long as possible."

Harry thought he had held on for quite some time. Wondering how he compared with Snape, he asked, "How long have you been able to withstand it?"

"It has never been cast on me."

"Did you invent it?" Harry pushed the bowl of shelled shrimp over to Snape.

"Yes." Snape flicked his wand around the kitchen and the table set itself.

"Why?" Harry knew how easily Snape could slip between his two selves, but even with the rape and torture, it was hard to reconcile the Snape who enjoyed inventing spells to torture people with the man he had come to know.

"To gather information." The shrimp swirled around the pan as the noodles rose out of the pot and landed in a bowl. The alfredo sauce upended itself on top of them, then the contents of the bowl mixed themselves.

Snape had never pretended that he was anything but a monster, but Harry had the feeling he had only scratched the surface of the horror of Snape's past. "What is the worst thing that you've ever done?"

Snape glanced up from the salad he was preparing. He studied Harry for a moment, his dark eyes searching Harry's face as if he could find the answer there. He turned back to the food and prepared the plates of pasta.

In a low voice, Snape spoke. "How can one measure sins? Crimes are even less comparable than acts of devotion and, just as one would not compare the love of a parent to the love of a spouse, the murder of either would be impossible to measure against the other except, perhaps, on the individual level." In a lighter tone, he added, "Sit. Lunch is ready."

Harry stole extra shrimp from Snape's plate while Snape poured the tea, his back to the table.

When Snape sat down, Harry met his eyes and said, "I know what mine is."

Snape's left eyebrow lifted slightly, but he gave no other response.

Harry added sugar and milk to his mug and stirred his tea slowly with his spoon. He lifted his spoon from his tea and laid it on the table, watching his movements as if they would help him form what he wanted to say. "Hermione warned me that I had a 'saving people thing' and that Voldemort would use that against me. I didn't listen to her. I didn't trust you to help us-"

"You shouldn't have," interrupted Snape.

Harry shook his head. "I didn't think about Kreacher. What he was like. What he thought of Sirius. I-"

Snape sighed. "Potter-"

Harry held up his hand, stopping Snape and looking him straight in the eyes. "I didn't practise Occlumency. I did.... I did so many things wrong. And I blamed Dumbledore. I blamed Kreacher. I blamed you."

Snape looked at him, but did not interrupt.

"I blamed everyone but myself. Even though I was responsible. And yeah, I know what you'll say, that you can't control the actions of anyone else. That Sirius was ultimately responsible because he chose to come rescue me." Harry looked down at his teacup. "But still, I should've listened to people who were trying to help me. Instead I was stupid and Sirius died because of me." Harry did not want or expect pity. It was an acknowledgment more than a confession, but he needed to say it.

When Harry said nothing more, Snape spoke. "Black," he said, with an air of finality, "was an idiot."

Harry barked out a laugh. He couldn't help it. Snape's face was set in a scowl as if simply hearing Sirius's name caused him pain. And he couldn't, even now Sirius was gone, say one kind thing about him. Snape turned his frown on Harry, which only caused Harry to laugh harder until he was inhaling great gulps of air and his laughter was almost hysterical. His eyes grew wet with tears and he was helpless to stop them as his laughter turned into sobs and the tears overflowed his eyes, running down his cheeks.

When Harry could finally breathe again, he wiped his face clean. He hiccupped a few times before looking at Snape, who was sitting rigidly, staring down at him with a blank stare. Harry smiled at him. "That was strange," he said, reaching for his fork and twirling it in the pasta. "I know you hate them, my dad and Sirius, because they were such arseholes to you. But isn't that like me and Malfoy? They can only hurt you if you let them. And they're dead, so there's no point in hating them." Harry shrugged.

Snape said nothing. Instead, he focused his eyes on his plate as he ate.

Harry took a few bites before he said, "I'm really sorry about your Pensieve. I shouldn't have looked in it. You made it very clear that you didn't want me to look, and I did it anyway."

Snape took a sip of his tea. With a shrug, he said, "It was foolish of me to leave you alone with it. I thought you had more sense, but obviously not."

Determined to impress upon Snape that he didn't approve of what James did, Harry said, "You know, afterwards, I asked Sirius how my mum could ever stand my dad." 

Snape glanced up from his meal but remained silent.

Setting down his fork, Harry said, "He said my dad got a lot better in his seventh year, and that my mom didn't know that he kept hexing you. Is that true?"

"Your mother," said Snape with a voice tinged with bitter ice, "never saw your father attack me after that incident."

"But he kept attacking you?"

A shadow crossed over Snape's features and any openness slid behind a mask of coolness. "It's none of your business."

Harry knew that no amount of prying would get that ice to melt. He'd have to wait until Snape relaxed, like a hedgehog uncurling from its tight ball. Until then, any attempts to learn what lay behind that guarded surface would be met with heavy resistance.

Snape's ill mood lasted through the second bout of training in which he made Harry practise dodging, shooting with the laser pointer, and avoiding wards. By the end of it, Harry was trembling on his legs like a newborn colt and Snape had to feed him potions to prevent Voldemort from feeling the growing pain in his legs.

"You need to be more careful," chided Snape as he worked out the knots in Harry's legs. "We must not call his attention to us."

"It didn't hurt at all until the end." Harry was leaning on his elbows, his legs stretched out behind him.

"Adrenaline masks pain, and testosterone causes you to overestimate your abilities."

Harry couldn't resist teasing him. "Are you going to wank me to get it out of me?"

Snape made a noise of derision. "Increased sexual contact stimulates testosterone production. Why do you think this is growing so fast?" Snape brushed his fingers against Harry's jaw.

Harry rubbed at his stubble. "More sex means more facial hair?" He'd have to have more sex then!

Snape's hands returned to Harry's legs. "The body increases testosterone production during periods of heightened sexual behaviour in order to produce greater quantities of sperm, increase strength to defend one's partner from competitors, and raise the libido to facilitate more frequent copulations."

"You make sex so . . . boring."

"Hmph. I don't believe that uncovering the processes behind a phenomenon decreases one's appreciation for it. On the contrary, I believe the reverse to be true. Think of potion creation. One would never expect nightshade and hellhound blood - two deadly poisons - to create Develum, which can be used in healing salves amongst other things."

"Wait a minute." Harry glanced back at Snape. "You put two poisons together and get something used to heal people? How does that work?"

"This is why you could never brew properly without my help," sighed Snape. "A potion is not merely the sum of its ingredients. In addition to the order in which they are added, the stirring pattern, the temperature, how long you allow them to brew . . . ingredients interact with each other to produce effects that are more than the sum of their individual properties. This is true in the Muggle world as well. Think of table salt. It is composed of sodium and chloride. Have you ever seen what happens when you put sodium in water?"

"No." Harry shook his head.

"I'll show you later," promised Snape. He patted Harry's thigh and stood. "Your legs need time to recover. I'll work on your muscles again after dinner."

"Could you massage other parts too?" asked Harry. He really wanted another back and shoulder massage. The last one had been so relaxing.

"Your penis?" Snape deadpanned with raised brows.

Harry bit back his laughter. "I meant my back!" He rolled over and displayed his soft penis to Snape. With a crooked eyebrow, Harry purred, "But you can massage that too if you want."

Harry expected Snape to roll his eyes or call Harry a hormonal teenager again. Instead, Snape arched a brow to match Harry's and said, "Later," in a voice as rich as dark chocolate.

Holy shit! Harry had just been having a laugh, but that word said in that tone made his cock start to fill. He lay there for a moment, just staring up at Snape. Snape smirked, then whirled and marched towards the kitchen, his robes swirling around his feet. Harry got to his feet and followed, his mouth dry. Snape had flirted!

Harry couldn't concentrate at all while they cooked. He had no idea what they were even making, he just did whatever Snape asked him to do, sneaking glances at the Potions Master. He never would have thought that flirting with Snape could be so entertaining or exciting. He imagined it was a bit like approaching an unfamiliar dragon: You didn't quite know whether you were about to get your head bitten off, or receive a friendly nudge of the tail.

After he had finished washing the vegetables, Snape offered Harry a huge knife. Harry stared at it. He had never been allowed a fork, much less a butter knife, and now Snape held out one of the biggest, sharpest knives Harry had ever seen.

"Take it," ordered Snape impatiently. "I'll enchant it so that you can't be hurt by it."

Harry took it, his eyes focused on the blade as Snape cast the spell.

"Cut the vegetables into bite-sized chunks," said Snape before he turned back to the fish in front of him.

Snape hadn't said that he had spelled the blade to protect himself from harm. Harry could possibly kill him. Of course, Snape rarely remained unguarded, and Harry knew his chances of committing murder would be slim, but still there was an unspoken level of trust with the knife.

Harry grabbed the carrots and caught the cutting board that flew towards him. He chopped them as Snape ordered, but he had barely begun when Snape interrupted.

"It isn't that hard, Potter. Here," Snape swept over and pressed his warm body into Harry's back. Harry became very aware that he was naked except for a thin apron. Snape's long arms reached around him, curling around the hand that was holding the knife.

Snape's deep voice stirred up the hairs near Harry's right ear as he instructed Harry on how to properly chop vegetables. Harry could barely concentrate with Snape's scent crowding out his thoughts and that sensual voice sending shivers down his spine straight to his dick.

"Isn't that far more efficient?" asked Snape, his voice deep.

It took a bit for the words to make sense in the aroused mess that was Harry's mind. "Yeah, much more." He turned his head, meeting Snape's eyes, their lips inches from each other. "What do you want me to do now?"

Harry deliberately left the question open; almost a challenge. Snape caught the double meaning, a fire lighting in his dark eyes. His gaze swept over Harry and then he bent down, whispering in Harry's ear, "Now you cut the celery," before sweeping off to the other side of the kitchen, leaving Harry hard and wanting.

Harry swallowed and turned back to the food. He would not allow Snape to beat him at the self-control game. Besides, it was more entertaining this way.

Harry avoided Snape throughout the rest of the preparation. When Snape complained about how he chopped the onions, he stepped away from the board and motioned from a safe distance for Snape to come and show him. Then, after Snape had returned to the other side of the kitchen, Harry said, "I'm not sure how small the potatoes should be."

"Bite-sized," said Snape as he slid over. Harry pushed the cutting board, knife and potatoes towards Snape. As he began to chop, explaining as he cut, Harry inched closer, finally leaving only a handspan between them. Pretending to pay attention to Snape's demonstration, he breathed in the earthy smell of the Potions Master and watched the elegant fingers move. As soon as Snape finished, he turned to Harry, his hand still holding the knife and said, "Now you try it."

"Yeah," said Harry as he moved away to grab a bowl. "I've got it now." Snape, realising the game Harry was playing, returned to the oven and didn't attempt to touch him again. 

Just before they finished, Harry brushed against Snape's back on his way to the teapot, letting his hand linger over the swell of Snape's arse. He acted nonchalant as he poured himself tea, pretending that he hadn't just groped Snape.

They ended up making a stew that Snape left to cook on a back burner, along with fish and chips which were fancier than any kind Harry had ever had before. Snape had a stack of letters near his plate, and he wrote scathing responses to most of the ones he read.

Harry remembered all too well that sharp tongue turned against him and how much he'd hated it. "Must you do that now?"

Snape crooked an eyebrow at him. "Why not? Do you have something better to suggest?"

"We can talk," Harry waved a hand between them. When Snape's eyebrows drew in towards each other in displeasure, Harry headed off the upcoming storm. "If we're going to be casting an important spell soon, then I should know as much about it as possible. I want to know the details."

Snape sent the papers to the side with a wave of his hand. "The spell requires minimal input from you. I'll give a line for you to repeat, but I'll do most of the casting. What we'll be doing in essence, is creating a potion for you to take before the second ceremony."

"How will it stop me from dying?"

"Drinking the potion will anchor your soul, causing it to remain in your body for the brief period while your body dies."

"I thought you were just going to pretend to kill me?" Harry frowned in confusion.

"As nothing can stop the Killing Curse, you will clinically die. If you do not take this potion we'll prepare soon, your soul will pass on and there will be no way to revive you."

But would this potion anchor the Horcrux as well or would it be removed? Harry had to be sure. There was no way he'd allow Voldemort to piggy-back to life. "How does it work? And how do you know it will anchor my soul?"

"It works the same way any bit of magic works: through a presently unknown mechanism. There is a chance that you will die, but I'm certain your soul will be preserved." 

He needed to be certain. "And if I don't take this second potion, then I'll die for sure? No way that I'll survive?"

Snape set down his fork and fixed his dark eyes on Harry. "You assured me that wouldn't be a problem. Have you changed your mind?"

Harry waved his hand dismissively. "No, of course not. Earlier you said that souls were nearly impossible to separate from the body. How can you be sure that my body will die and my soul won't? What if he doesn't try to possess my body? What if he cancels the ceremony?"

Snape arched an eyebrow. "Why do you think I have spent these months training you in dodging and aiming? If all else fails, you will snatch a wand and cast the Killing Curse upon him."

"I can't cast with these!" Harry motioned toward his cuffs.

"If you reveal your intention to fight, there will be Dark Magic cast towards you."

It didn't escape Harry's notice that Snape said Dark Magic would be cast towards him rather than that _he_ would be casting Dark Magic at Harry. Since Voldemort had declared that Harry should not be hurt, Dark Magic would only be cast towards him by someone willing to disobey Voldemort. That meant that either Snape had an ally, or someone would likely use the confusion to attempt to kill or severely harm him.

Snape continued speaking, distracting Harry's thoughts. "Right before the second ceremony, you will drink the potion. The Dark Lord will give you a separate potion that will kill your body. There is a chance that the first ceremony won't work and you'll die at this point. Most likely you'll remain unconscious for a brief period of time while the Dark Lord attempts to de-soul you. The potion he'll feed you to kill your body will wear off quickly. When you wake, you should find the Dark Lord dead. If not, you must concentrate on removing the cuffs, obtaining a wand and killing him yourself. Understood?"

"Earlier you told me not to try to get a wand because I wouldn't know if it was compatible with me or not."

"Ideally, you will cast as infrequently as possible. Yes, using a wand not your own will affect your magic. However...." Snape's eyes narrowed and his expression darkened. "I trust you have the hate in you necessary to destroy the Dark Lord, even with the wand of another."

Harry assured him with a coldness in his voice that surprised him, "That won't be a problem."

Snape picked up his fork. "Eat, and there may be time for more training after dinner." 

 

[ _As always, please review!_ ]


	57. Chapter 57

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

Harry gulped down his food, but when Snape wanted to put him through more fear training, he balked. That was not how he wanted to end the day, especially when he was planning to pay Tom a visit later that night.

"We can spend all morning on that tomorrow. Why don't I try to steal your wand again?"

"I intended to train you in that manner tomorrow." For a moment, Snape just stood there, looking at Harry. Then he said, "Within the next six days, you will face him. It is best that we keep your body in top shape. Take a shower and I'll massage you."

Harry had the feeling that the massage wouldn't be limited to the parts injured by training. "Right," he said, perking up both mentally and physically.

After a long, languid shower in Snape's bathroom, Harry stepped out to find Snape reading in a chair beside the bed. Red sheets from Harry's smaller bed were spread across Snape's larger one. Why did Snape act so weird about having him on his bed?

Rubbing a towel through his hair, Harry asked, "Can't stand the smell of a Potter in your bed?"

Snape glanced up from his book. "I'll not have it stained with massage oils."

"Haven't you heard of cleaning spells?" Dropping the towel on the floor, Harry strode over to the bed.

"Must you always toss your clothing and towels on the floor?" Snape lifted his wand and Harry glanced over to see the towel hurtling towards his wardrobe which opened to receive it.

Harry climbed onto the bed. "You never told me your laundry bin was in the wardrobe."

"It's polite to ask," scolded Snape. "Really Potter, I shouldn't have to lecture you on basic social interactions."

That was rich. Snape complaining that Harry didn't have proper social skills. Lying on his stomach, Harry pulled a soft pillow towards him. Resting his head and shoulders upon it, he asked, "Must you make everything into an argument?"

Snape's eyes narrowed and he closed his book, tossing it to the table beside the bed. "Placing all the blame on me? You felt the necessity to complain about a very simple request." Snape climbed on the bed and repositioned Harry's limbs, placing his legs close together and his arms parallel to his torso.

"I wasn't complaining. I was explaining." Not wanting to argue any longer, Harry changed the subject. "Why do you have four bottles on the table?"

"Various purposes," said Snape evasively. He Summoned a low, flat jar to himself and twisted off the cap. An earthy smell that reminded Harry of a deep forest filled the room.

"Mmm . . . what is that?" 

Warm, cream-covered fingers swiped over Harry's back. "I've developed a new salve to aid in your recovery after exercise. It will relax and rebuild muscles without the staining properties of the other." Snape smeared the potion in broad strokes over every inch of uncovered skin he could reach.

"Why did you put the sheets down if it doesn't stain?"

"There is a chance that it may cause staining after interaction with your skin and sweat." Snape shifted down Harry's body, spreading the ointment down Harry's legs.

"So you decided to ruin my sheets?"

"I don't anticipate you sleeping in that bed for much longer."

"Yeah," agreed Harry with a yawn. "I'm sleeping here from now on."

Snape dropped the foot he had been holding. "Roll over."

Harry obeyed, turning over and shutting his eyes. "I didn't do much physical exercise today but I'm really tired."

Snape's hands moved up Harry's legs. "You spent several hours in a state of fear today; of course your body is exhausted. Would you like some tea?" And then, as if it were a perfectly normal and natural thing to do when offering tea at the end of an exhausting day, Snape's fingers closed around Harry's soft penis and gave it three squeezing pulls. 

Harry's eyes flew open and he nearly shot off the bed. He'd expected sex, but he'd thought they would do it later, after the massage. He shot a glance at Snape who wore a very neutral expression - as if there was nothing at all Harry should be surprised about. Snape's hands left Harry's cock and moved on, covering Harry's stomach and hips in the cream-coloured salve.

Harry took several deep breaths, and tried to relax and ignore his thickening cock. But just when he had finally begun to go flaccid again, Snape's hands returned to grasp his deflating prick and stroke him back to hardness. When Snape's fingers moved on as soon as he had renewed Harry's interest, Harry realised the game Snape was playing.

His suspicions were confirmed when Snape avoided touching his groin except when his dick began to deflate. Then Snape would only touch and stroke him enough to keep him hard, almost as if he were some sort of potion which occasionally needed extra help to maintain a desired temperature.

Harry, determined to prove himself just as capable of self-control as Snape, encouraged it. When Snape had him roll onto his stomach to work on his back, Harry helped him out by suggesting that Snape massage various parts on the front of his body whenever he began to lose his erection. He'd roll over, Snape would stroke him hard again, and they'd return to the massage, both acting as if it were an entirely natural way to conduct a massage.

Snape didn't speak and Harry didn't try to start a conversation. He had the feeling they would just argue, as they so often did, and he didn't want to ruin this rare moment of pure bliss.

As Harry's limbs turned to mush and Snape worked out every bit of tension in his back, the call of lust grew exponentially until completion became a need rather than a want. Harry rolled over onto his back, sat up, and grabbed Snape's shoulders with a firm grip, yanking him forward for a kiss.

Snape's body tensed as if he feared an attack when Harry's hands closed around his upper arms, but when Harry puckered his lips and tilted his head, Snape's black eyes slid shut and he pressed his mouth against Harry's with fervour.

Snape's tongue pushed against Harry's mouth, seeking entrance, but Harry wanted to slide his into Snape's. Both refused to yield and each tried to trick the other into giving up first. Harry blocked his genitals from Snape's exploring fingers and cupped Snape's groin. The man was wearing so many bloody layers he couldn't feel the rampant erection he knew was hidden in there.

Harry broke the kiss to complain. "You wear too damn much."

"You wear too little," retorted Snape as he pinched Harry's right nipple. Hard.

"Ow!" Harry slapped away the offending hand.

Snape lunged at him, knocking him back against the bed.

Harry tore at the buttons on Snape's frock coat as Snape's tongue ravaged his mouth. He tried to kiss back, frantically, desperately, but Snape's mouth consumed him and there were too many buttons. Fed up with popping button after button and finding himself no closer to warm skin, Harry grabbed the frock coat and ripped it, buttons tearing off.

Snape pulled back. "You brat!"

" _Repairo_ ," Harry reminded him before he pounced and tore past the last three buttons.

Snape backhanded him, knocking him back. It didn't hurt at all, the strength of it caused by surprise rather than force.

"You hit like a girl," taunted Harry, wanting a fight.

Snape ignored the barb. He slid out of his frock coat and repaired it. After it had been mended and thrown to the side of the bed, he said, "I didn't intend to hurt you, you clod."

"You pinched me!" He hadn't even thought about the danger of the act when it had occurred and neither had Snape apparently, because long, pale fingers paused in the act of undressing.

"You deserved it," Snape said before he returned to his task.

Harry drew in a deep breath and spoke in his deepest, most authoritative tone. "If you don't behave, then I shall leave here and return to my quarters."

Snape smirked and crawled over Harry. Dipping his head, his black hair brushing over Harry's skin, he tasted Harry's collarbone before licking and kissing his way to Harry's earlobe.

Harry moaned softly as Snape nibbled and sucked on the sensitive bit of flesh. Snape released the nub and whispered in a dark tone, "You think you'll escape? I'll chain you to my bed."

It was far more erotic than threatening and Harry thrust his hips up to rub his erection against Snape's still-clad groin. He grabbed Snape's hair and pulled him down for a searing kiss before giving his response. "I'll piss all over it."

Snape shifted away and flipped Harry over, pinning him on his stomach. One hand grabbed a buttock and squeezed it. "I'll spank you."

"Spank your former pupil? That's kinky, even for you." Harry glanced back at Snape. "Why are you still dressed?"

Snape shook his head as he slipped off his trousers. "One of these days you will learn how much women appreciate patience. Sex is more than just mindless thrusting."

Harry couldn't resist. "I know you aren't the most well-endowed man, but there is no need to completely renounce your masculinity."

Snape climbed over Harry again and pressed his cloth-covered groin into Harry’s buttocks. This time, Harry could feel the strength of his lust. 

"Do you need to be reminded of my masculinity?"

Harry yawned dramatically. "Sure, just don't wake me. I'm going to nap."

Snape shifted above him and Harry felt the firm, spongy head of his cock press against his entrance.

"You won't mind if I just slip it in then," said Snape before he began to push forward.

Harry scrambled out from under him, escaping to the other end of the bed. "Unlubed?!"

"Care to change your assessment?" Snape asked in a triumphant tone.

"I have a better idea," announced Harry. "I'll have a go at you unlubed and we'll see how long you last."

"Ah, but that is a bit unfair. How would I return the favour?" Snape dropped the last of his clothing to the floor, naked now on the bed before Harry.

Harry crawled back over to him. "Blowing me is a wonderful way to return any generous offers."

Snape curled his fingers around Harry's chin and pulled him forward for a soft kiss. With heated eyes, he said, "If you make it to the door, I'll give you want you want."

Harry glanced at the door and licked his lips. It wasn't too far away, but he didn't stand a chance if Snape used magic. Harry narrowed his eyes at Snape. "No magic."

"No magic cast upon you," said Snape as he gave a nod of agreement.

"No magic cast at all."

Snape sat up straight and cocked an eyebrow at Harry. "No magic cast upon you."

Harry knew Snape would refuse to budge on this point. He doubted he could do it, but it was worth a try. If he won, he would receive a blowjob and Snape never suggested a penalty if he should lose. Shooting another glance at the door to estimate the distance, Harry nodded. "All right. But I say when we go, okay?"

"Right." Snape's intense dark eyes never left Harry's face.

Harry made him sit for several minutes before he sprang into action. He figured Snape would expect him to dash off towards his left; heading straight towards the door. Instead, Harry charged at Snape, rolling past him and landing on the floor behind him. He darted towards the door, dodging spider webs and wards, until something wrapped around his ankle and tripped him. 

Harry tried to pull away, but Snape swooped down and pushed his shoulders to the floor. He bucked, thrusting up his arse while he rolled to the side, and escaped.

" _Concretio Ferratilis_!"

"That's cheating!" Harry yelled as chains appeared between his right cuff and a ring in the floor. He rolled towards the door, extending the chain as far as it would allow. He wiggled towards the door just as another chain bound his other arm, and he shoved out a foot, brushing the tip of his big toe against it. "I did it!"

Snape settled between Harry's legs, triumph etched on his features. "You can barely touch it. You lost. Now....." Potion-stained fingers slid up over Harry's stomach and trickled upwards to capture his nipples.

Harry moaned as Snape lightly pinched and pulled the small nubs; working them to a hardness so tight it was almost painful. Snape finally released Harry's nipples and shifted forward, pressing his hard, hot length down into Harry's. He grabbed Harry's hair with one hand and kissed him thoroughly, moaning when Harry rubbed their cocks together.

Snape yanked back his head, breaking the kiss, and said in a desperate, breathless voice, "Now I will fuck you."

Harry's cock jumped in joy at that pronouncement, but he still thought he should be rewarded. "I touched the door. And you cheated."

Snape smirked and sat up. "I did not cheat. I never cast a spell at you. However," he quickly added when Harry opened his mouth to argue, "you did touch the door, so you will receive a consolation prize." Hooking his hands behind Harry's knees, he pushed them up and pinned them to the floor near Harry's armpits. His hands left, but Harry's legs stayed in place, held by magic.

Harry could barely move with the chains binding his arms and his legs held in place. With his arse up and his cheeks spread, Snape could do nearly anything he wanted and Harry wouldn't be able to stop him. A block of ice settled in Harry's stomach. It wasn't as if he didn't trust Snape, he did, but there were too many times when sex had been used as a show of dominance. Control had been taken by Snape then, through potions, magic, chains, and even occasionally brute force. The last thing he wanted to think about during sex was the times when Snape had raped him.

"Don't-," gasped Harry as he strained against his bonds. "Release-"

"Here." Snape waved his wand and the chains binding Harry's arms to the floor disappeared. Another wave of the wand and soft padding appeared beneath his back and bum, supporting him and easing his discomfort from the awkward position. "More comfortable?" asked Snape and there was nothing but concern in his dark eyes.

Snape would remove the magic binding Harry's knees to the floor if Harry asked him to, and that was enough to ease Harry's tension. He relaxed against the fluffy material and watched Snape bend down his head, his dark hair falling forward to brush against Harry's bum. He planted a soft, light kiss on the head of Harry's penis.

Lifting his head, Snape announced, "You need a bit of a trim." He placed his wand just below Harry's belly button and a shaving spell fanned out, the tingling sensation travelling towards Harry's penis as hair disappeared. A neatly trimmed patch remained around the base of his penis while the spell trickled over his testicles. It felt strange; not good, but not bad. But then the spell zipped over his arsehole and he jumped. "Ah! "

Snape's hands roamed over the recently cleared area. Without the hair providing a buffer between their skins, each stroke sent shivers of pleasure throughout Harry's body.

"Much better, hm?" Snape smirked, his smouldering eyes locked on Harry's face. He lowered his head to give Harry's balls more attention than they had ever received before.

Harry squeezed his eyes tightly shut, throwing back his head. He had only begun to play with them after Snape had showed him how good it could feel, but never before had Snape given so much attention to that highly sensitive area. Snape's mouth licked, sucked, stroked and fondled the nubs in their soft sack while his hands roamed over the parts of Harry's body he could reach without removing his mouth from that spot. He touched everywhere except where Harry wanted it the most - on his leaking, throbbing prick.

Harry dug his fingers into the carpet as pleasure washed over him, curling his toes and drawing moans from his throat. It was bloody fantastic, especially when Snape sucked on a ball while playing with his nipples.

He knew what Snape was waiting for; what Snape wanted to hear before they would move to the next stage. Harry wasn't ready to give it to him just yet, but when Snape pressed his tongue into that spot beneath his balls while he caressed Harry's thighs, Harry couldn't contain himself any longer.

He opened his eyes and cried, "Fuck me already!"

Snape pressed his finger against Harry's hole and cast the cleaning spell. Harry thrust his bum back against the finger as much as the bonds would allow. Fuck, he wanted to feel Snape's cock inside of him, slamming against that spot. He wanted Snape to fuck him so hard and fast, he wouldn't be able to think of anything but how close he was to blowing his load.

Snape removed his finger and gave Harry's balls another swipe of the tongue. But then, instead of fetching the lube and oiling his fingers, his tongue slid down Harry's crack to flicker over his hole.

"Oh!" cried Harry, nearly jumping out of his skin. "What're you-? Ahhh!"

Snape's tongue returned, swirling around that delicate spot, while his smouldering eyes watched Harry's face. It was so wrong. Snape was licking his arse! Never mind the cleaning spell, he shit from there! Something so completely disgusting should not be so mind-blowingly fantastic.

When Harry had read about rimming in the book, he hadn't been able to imagine how either partner could ever find it erotic. But this.... He no longer cared that he hadn't received a blowjob. He no longer cared about anything but that wicked tongue flickering over his arsehole.

A part of his brain heard the embarrassing whimpering noises that escaped his mouth and he bit his hand, trying to gain some semblance of composure.

"Don't." Snape lifted his head and gently tugged on Harry's arm. "You'll hurt yourself. Come." He released the bonds binding Harry's knees to the floor and pulled Harry to his feet. Momentarily unbalanced, Harry swayed, catching himself on Snape's robes.

"On the bed," suggested Harry when Snape stepped away towards his desk.

Snape inclined his head in agreement and motioned towards the bed. "Lie down on your stomach. We need to finish your massage."

Harry jumped up on the bed and lay down on his back with his legs spread. "No, we're going to fuck. And don't tell me 'patience'. We can be patient after we fuck."

Snape chuckled and stepped between Harry's spread legs. He bent down and pressed his lips against Harry's, grinding their cocks together. Harry automatically opened his mouth for Snape before he remembered where Snape's tongue had just been, but Snape tasted of peppermint, as if he had somehow found the time to use mouthwash.

Snape broke the kiss and traced a finger across Harry’s unshaven chin. "In your masturbation experiences, have you ever orgasmed without touching your penis?"

"No, I didn’t think it was possible until I did it during sex. Did you know that you don't need to touch your cock to come?"

"Yes, I trained myself to do it one summer."

"Really?" Harry imagined Snape sitting in his office, wanking off over and over again while he stared at his penis as if it were a potion he had difficulty brewing.

"I was a teenager once." Snape kissed down Harry’s neck. "I want- " He planted a kiss on Harry’s collarbone. "-to try to-" He kissed Harry’s breastbone. "-bring you to orgasm-" He flickered his tongue over a nipple. "-without any stimulation of your prostate or penis."

"Do it after we fuck." Harry ran his fingers through Snape’s silky hair.

Snape gave the nipple another lick before saying, "No, I’ll fuck you after you orgasm. If you are unable to do it in a reasonable amount of time, I’ll masturbate you to completion."

Either way, he could come soon. "All right." 

Snape rolled off of Harry and readjusted himself on the bed, crawling forward to lie by Harry’s side. "Don't touch yourself. If you cannot wait, let me know and I'll finish you off. Concentrate on building your pleasure."

"Right." Harry suspected that Snape saw this as a challenge, something to prove. That knowledge eased Harry's determination to come quickly. He would drag it out, make Snape work to please him.

Harry closed his eyes, relaxed against the bed, and thought the most boner crushing thoughts he could possibly imagine. Hagrid naked. McGonagall and Dumbledore. Vernon and Petunia. That was such a disgusting thought, he shivered.

"Cold?" asked Snape from somewhere near Harry’s left ear.

"No, I’m good."

Snape kissed him, soft and light. It wasn’t anything like the hard, heavy kisses they used to share. Snape had always seemed an undertow, dragging Harry along with the force of his passion, but now he savoured Harry instead of devouring him. 

Snape stroked Harry's chest as he kissed him, petting him everywhere except his nipples. The warm mouth left his lips and travelled back down his neck. Harry knew where it was heading but it seemed in no hurry to get there. Snape licked and kissed nearly every inch of Harry’s chest, finding spots that Harry didn’t know existed. 

Snape took too long to reach his destination, his hair brushing over Harry’s rock-hard nipples, but never his mouth. Harry couldn't stand it.

"My nipples," gasped Harry. "Lick them."

Snape’s tongue darted out across one, wetting it, and then he blew cool air across it. "Like that?" he asked, his voice deep.

"Oh yeah! Like that," Harry choked out, arching his back so his nipple was presented closer to Snape's mouth.

Snape repeated the act on the other one before closing his teeth and lips around it and sucking hard. Harry gasped and grabbed his hair. It was almost like Snape used Legilimency to read his mind to know just how to suck the soft nubs. He bit them enough to make them sore, each sensation enhanced, but not enough to actually hurt. He attended them equally, shifting between them as if he somehow knew when the other felt neglected. Harry had to concentrate really hard on repulsive thoughts in order not to come. 

Then, Snape teased the nubs with his hands while his tongue found Harry's earlobe. Orgasm raced upon Harry and he struggled to hold it back. His penis began to twitch and, for a second, he thought that he had lost his attempt to hold back his rapture, but he never ejaculated and he remained hard after the orgasmic twitching had subsided. 

"Holy fuck," he said once it was over and he could breathe again without worrying about coming all over himself.

Snape smirked. "Let’s see if we can get you to do that again. _Accio_ wand!"

Harry couldn’t figure out why Snape needed a wand to play with his nipples, but Snape waved the wand towards his bum and padding appeared, raising it up as if he had placed his butt on a soft, triangular pillow.

" _Accio_ lube." Two jars floated towards Snape. 

"I thought you weren't going to penetrate me," said Harry, not wanting the experiment to end.

"I won't. Not yet." Snape tossed one of the jars to the side and opened the other. Closer now to Harry’s eyes, he could see which lube it was – the one he had masturbated with earlier.

"Oh." A wide smile spread Harry’s lips. "Oooooh."

Snape smeared a generous amount over Harry’s right nipple and bent down to suck on it. When his mouth lifted, the pattern remained, as if his mouth was still working the bit of flesh. Snape repeated the action on Harry’s other nipple, and when he shifted away, it felt as though two invisible people had crawled onto the bed and were now pleasuring Harry’s chest. 

Snape left the bed and rubbed the potion into Harry’s balls. He squeezed and rubbed them lightly, enough for the feeling to remain after he removed his hand. Snape smeared potion all the way down Harry’s crack and gave it a hard lick up and down. After coating Harry’s hole, he wiggled his tongue all around the pucker. 

History. History was the dullest subject of which Harry could think. What year was that Giant revolt that-

Snape's tongue seemed to vibrate and Harry let out a shout as the glorious sensation momentarily left him thoughtless. Balanced precariously on the edge, he struggled to hold onto himself and not let ecstasy overwhelm him, succeeding enough to just feel another mini-orgasm tear through him.

Umbridge and Filch. Kreacher and Bellatrix. Snape did something else with his tongue that sent a jolt of pleasure straight to Harry's dick and he jumped, kicking Snape in the shoulder. Snape grabbed Harry's legs, pushed them apart, and pressed his nose into the sweet spot behind Harry's balls as he resumed the erotic torture.

There was no way he was going to last. He was sweating, his muscles straining, his balls tight against his body.

Fortunately, Snape stopped licking and stood. The imprint of Snape's tongue still licked his arsehole via the potion, but it wasn't as intense as having Snape's tongue there. Gasping for breath, Harry tried to get himself under control. He couldn't let Snape win.

Casting _Mobilicorpus_ , Snape lifted Harry's body up off the bed, turning him around. Harry remained floating above the surface, his cock dangling and without anything to rub against. Invisible bands appeared around his chest and hips and when Snape released _Mobilicorpus_ , Harry thrust his palms and knees against the bed to catch himself even though he didn't fall. He tried to press his cock against something, but he couldn't move his torso.

Snape crawled on top of him, pressing his hard, wet cock into Harry’s arse cheeks.

"Stop holding back." Snape said in Harry’s ear as his fingers found and pinched Harry's nipples. His voice pierced through Harry, sliding up and down his spine. 

"Oh fuck!" There were invisible mouths on his nipples and pucker; invisible hands on his testicles; a very real, hard cock shoved between his cheeks; and hands pinching and pulling his nipples. 

"Orgasm and I'll fuck you," Snape continued in his deepest, richest voice. "You want me to fuck you, don't you? You-"

The individual words disappeared, Harry only heard the deep timbre of Snape’s voice as he lost the battle of holding back his orgasm. 

He came and it seemed unending, as if Snape had somehow found some secret switch inside of him. The lube and Snape never ceased stimulating him throughout the orgasm and each sensation multiplied as if he had taken a full dose of the sex potion. If he were to die, let it end like this! 

The spell holding him in place disappeared and Harry collapsed against the sheets. Snape left the bed, running a hand down Harry’s sweaty back as he walked away. Harry heard him pouring liquids, but he didn’t even have the strength to lift his head and turn to watch Snape. 

" _Mobilicorpus_." Harry’s body lifted, turned, and ended up in a sitting position, propped up against the headboard of the bed.

Holding a mug, Snape slipped onto the bed and helped Harry drink a warm cup of tea. 

Harry sipped it slowly, his breath still catching in his throat. 

Snape's triumphant eyes watched Harry drink and he sent the cup away when Harry had had his fill. "Does anything hurt? Any muscles pulled?"

Harry shook his head. "No, no. I feel fine." He was quite winded and sore, as if he had spent the last few minutes in an intense work-out rather than orgasming. The lube had either been removed or lost its ability to stimulate him and he focused on relaxing, calming his body.

Grinning at Snape, Harry said, "I think the lube is cheating. Let’s try that again, but this time, you won’t be able to use anything but your body. No magic, no potions, nothing else."

"Later," said Snape with promise. He sat with a casual air, leaning back on one hand and sipping at his tea with the other as if they were at a tea party rather than in the middle of sex. Only his heated eyes and his red, engorged sex revealed his lust. It was amazing he had lasted this long without pouncing on Harry and thrusting into him. The man had more patience than anyone Harry had ever met.

Patience that apparently was at an end. Snape sent the mug back to the table and rolled his finger in a circle. "Roll over."

Harry scooted further down the bed and rolled onto his stomach. He spread his legs and lifted his bum. If Snape was impatient to fuck him, he did not show it with his fingers. He stretched Harry with the painstakingly slow and unnecessary one, two, three finger method. If Harry hadn’t already orgasmed, he would’ve been tempted to reach back, grab Snape’s cock, and shove it inside of him. As wonderful as the fingers felt, they were nothing compared to the thick, full heat of Snape's cock.

As it was, by the time Snape finished stretching him, his dick was filled with life again.

Snape’s spongy cockhead pressed up against Harry’s entrance and he pushed inside, breaching the tight ring of muscles and spreading it wide. Harry moaned as Snape's massive cock slowly filled him, pushing in deeper and deeper. Snape was quiet, focused on the slow slide as he pushed his way in, only releasing a low, guttural groan as his balls brushed against Harry’s. 

"Doesn't hurt?" he asked before kissing Harry’s shoulders and the top of his spine.

"Not at all. It hasn’t for a while."

Snape’s arms appeared on either side of Harry’s. Harry stared at the Dark Mark as Snape rolled his hips, thrusting only a tiny amount. "I changed the recipe for the lube."

"Oh?" Harry could barely concentrate on Snape's words as he focused on the feeling of being fucked.

"I originally used something to relax the muscles," said Snape as he thrust, his breath hot on Harry’s ear. "To make it easier…. for penetration. I took it out." Snape licked at Harry’s earlobe. "To make you tighter."

"Am I?" Harry could feel Snape’s cock more than he remembered, but he had assumed that was because he was extra sensitive due to the intense orgasm he had just had.

"The analgesic I used- " Snape increased his pace. "It numbs as a side effect. For both of us. I took that out too."

"Yeah, I can feel that." Instead of decreasing, the feel of Snape’s cock inside of him grew all the more pronounced. He could feel Snape’s heart beating inside the engorged organ. "Did you put that other lube in it? The one you just used on me?"

"No. That’s not- It’s not proper for anal intercourse. Unlike with masturbatory-"

"You can’t stop being a teacher, can you?" The last thing Harry wanted to hear during sex was a lecture on lubrication. 

Snape nipped at his shoulder. "Not when you ask me questions."

Harry wanted it fast and hard and he had the feeling he wasn't going to get that in his current position. He pushed back his bum and shoved at Snape with a hand. "Get off. I want to get up on my knees."

Snape pulled out and Harry shifted up onto his knees and gripped the headboard.

Snape said, "You’ll hurt your hands if the bed shifts," and created a bar like a towel rack for Harry to hold on to. Harry couldn't understand why that was an improvement over the headboard, but grabbed it anyway.

Snape thrust back in and hit Harry’s prostate head on.

"Ah!" 

Snape paused. "Too fast?"

"No!" Harry canted his hips, fucking himself on Snape’s cock. "It’s perfect! Keep going."

Snape needed no further encouragement. He wrapped his arms around Harry, one hand curling around Harry’s cock while the other played with a nipple.

Harry wiggled his bum until he found the perfect angle. He thrust back against Snape who seemed determined to set his own pace and neither one yielded, which led to the most mismatched fucking Harry had ever received.

"Stop moving," said Snape, releasing Harry. At the same time, Harry said, "You're doing it wrong."

Harry reached back behind him and grabbed Snape's arse. "Push," he ordered as he thrust back to meet Snape. Snape shifted his hands to Harry's thighs and met Harry's pace, fucking him just the way he wanted. It was perfect when they worked together instead of against each other.

Why couldn't they do this more often instead of battling over everything? It was stupid how much they fought - constantly rowing over tiny, inconsequential things. There seemed to be very little chance that they'd both survive the war, especially with what Harry now knew. They should spend their time enjoying each other like this. Why hadn't they done this earlier?

"Oh god," moaned Harry. "Keep doing that."

"Doing this?" asked Snape, his voice breathless.

"Oooh, yeah." Harry braced himself on the bar. "Like that. Harder."

Snape snapped his hips faster, hard enough to rock the whole bed into the wall.

"Fuck!" cried Harry.

It was just what he needed. Hard and fast enough to make him forget everything but the two of them. With all of the lies and manipulations - both by Snape and by Tom - there was only one thing that Harry believed and that was that Snape, in his own way, loved him. The sex was far too perfect for him to believe otherwise. Still, he wanted to see Snape's affections.

Releasing the bar, Harry gasped, "On- On my back."

Without pause, Snape pulled out and, grabbing Harry's hips, threw him back on the bed. Spreading and lifting his legs, Harry licked his lips and said, "Fuck me."

Snape's dark eyes were burning as he, without a word, slid in between Harry's legs and thrust back inside of him with one quick, hard stroke.

"Ah!" Harry wrapped his legs around him, helping him drive deep with each thrust of the hips. Reaching up to tangle his fingers in the mess of Snape's hair, Harry yanked him down for a heart-felt kiss. Snape returned the kiss with a passion to match his own and only broke it to brace himself against the bed.

Staring up at the fierce black eyes that bored into his own, Harry scratched down Snape's back, drawing a moan from the other man's throat. He did it again, harder, just to feel the rougher snap of Snape's hips and see his eyes flash with pleasure. Squeezing tight around the thick cock pounding into him, Harry dug his nails into Snape's shoulders and groaned words of encouragement. 

It was enough to push Snape over the edge. He came, his cock pulsing inside Harry, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on Harry's as his hips jerked and a low, guttural moan escaped his throat. 

So enamoured with Snape's face was Harry, that he almost forgot his own need until Snape pulled out his deflating cock and slid down Harry's body, mouthing and kissing each part he passed. It had been far too long since Snape had last sucked his cock and he'd forgotten how wonderful it felt to thrust into that hot mouth.

"Oh fuck!" Gripping the sheets, Harry threw back his head, closing his eyes as he let Snape drive him wild. Snape somehow knew just how to suck him and when two fingers pushed inside him and fucked him in time to the bob of the wet mouth over his cock, Harry couldn't contain himself any longer.

Moaning, thrusting his hips mindlessly, Harry came down Snape's throat. Without pause, Snape bobbed his head, sucking Harry dry and licking away every trace of his release as if he were a most delicious lolly. When his questing tongue turned ticklish instead of erotic, Harry laughed and kicked him away. 

Catching a flailing leg in his hand, Snape said teasingly, "Kicking me is hardly the way to encourage repeat performances."

"It was amazing," Harry assured him. "Just too ticklish towards the end. Do it again, and this time I'll keep my legs still."

Snape smirked and shook his head. "I'm sure if I left it up to you, you would request fellatio daily."

"With every meal," agreed Harry. Then, realising how selfish he'd been, he added, "I'll do it for you - if you really want me to. But, I'm not putting my tongue anywhere near your arsehole. That's disgusting."

His eyebrows rising in amusement, Snape said, "You didn't think so when I did it to you."

"Oh, I did. I mean, it felt bloody brilliant, but it was disgusting."

"Cleaning spells negate any hygiene issues."

"No cleaning spells can make _that_ clean."

Snape shook his head. "You're such a Muggle sometimes." He Summoned his wand and cleaned both of them and the bed before stretching out across the surface.

Harry, not ready to go to sleep, turned onto his hands and knees, and wiggled his arse, saying, "If you want to have another go at proving me wrong, then do it."

Shaking his head, Snape said, "For the sheath outwears its sword, and the soul outwears the breast, and the heart must pause to breathe...."*

"Huh?" asked Harry.

"Nothing." Snape stared at the ceiling.

It was now or never. Although Harry didn't trust Tom, there were too many questions that Snape hadn't answered properly. Too many doubts floated in Harry's head for him to remain quiet. He crawled over to lie beside Snape and asked, "Are there doors in the laundry room that lead outside?"

Snape's eyes flickered, only for the tiniest moment, but it was enough for Harry to know he was lying when he said, "No."

Harry rolled over onto his side, pressing his back against Snape, and pretended he hadn't noticed the dishonesty. "Dangerous poisons?"

"No," said Snape and he shifted to run his fingers down the length of Harry's torso.

"Laundry facilities?"

"Perhaps." Snape nibbled on Harry’s ear as his questing fingers found and curled around Harry’s cock. 

Harry let Snape stroke him to orgasm, pretending that he hadn’t noticed how Snape tried to distract him with sex rather than answer a question. 

After the orgasm had washed over him, Harry kissed Snape goodnight, curled against him, and fell asleep.

Tom awaited him on a recliner swathed in crimson cloth. 

 

 

*Severus has reworded Lord Byron's poem to make more sense in regards to their particular circumstance. :p


	58. Chapter 58

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

Harry strode over to stand before Tom. "I know what you are," he said.

Tom's eyebrow arched and he sat up. In a calm voice he said, "I never hid it from you. Listen to me, Harry-"

"No, you listen to me," said Harry, punctuating his order with a jab of his finger. "I can destroy you any second now that I know what you are. Don't think that I won't do it, either. The only reason I haven't killed myself is because you - he - Voldemort dies first."

Tom jumped to his feet. "I want him dead, the same as you. He would not let me live to challenge him. He would keep me in an artefact, to be used just as he now uses you. I've lived too long through you to die by his hand, Harry. I have a way - a way for both of us to live. We need to escape this place-"

Harry shook his head. "No, I want this over. I want it ended."

"I'm not him!" Tom objected with an angry slash of his hand. "You've shown me what it's like to live, really live! You've shown me what it's like to love and be loved. Now that I've tasted it - through you - I cannot bear the thought of dying without knowing what it is like to be loved. Can you imagine how painful that must be? To die without ever having been loved?"

Harry's heart thumped as memories of his time at the Dursleys flooded through him. "I'm sorry." He took a step towards Tom and showed his regret plainly on his face. "I really am. But I have to do this."

Tom shook his head. "You still trust Severus? After he lied to you yet again?"

"He's helped me this far. And I trust him more than I trust you. He cares about me. He loves me. You said so yourself."

A slow, crooked smile spread across Tom's face. "That's right, you haven't figured it out, have you?"

"Figured what out?" Harry didn't like the crookedness of the smile and tensed, ready for the lies that were sure to slip from Tom's mouth.

"Exactly why he wishes to aid you. Why he betrayed me."

Harry snottily asked, "He was tired of being a slave to someone less intelligent?" 

Tom laughed and, for a moment, it sounded genuine. "No. No...." He shook his head and once had he composed himself, he said, "He knew about your mother's pregnancy and that I would kill your father on my way to you, just as he knew your father to be the type of man who would die defending his son." He shifted forward, standing within an arm's length of Harry. "He asked me to spare her - your mother - and I thought he merely fancied her. I thought he only wanted her because James possessed her. But no, I see now that he loved her. It-"

" _What_?" 

Tom continued as if Harry hadn't interrupted. "It must be your eyes," he mused as he lifted a hand to stroke the side of Harry's face. "You do have very exquisite eyes, Harry."

Harry knocked Tom's hand away from his face with a fist. "Don't touch me."

Tom withdrew his arm and sat down on the recliner.

"Snape hated my mother. He called her a 'Mudblood'. He-"

"He begged me to let her live. Why do you think I gave her the chance to step aside and spare her own life? Do you think I gave anyone else that option? Why would I care about the life of a Mudblood witch when I cut down the last of a Pureblood lineage without a second thought? Severus is the only reason you are alive today." With a wave of his hand, he created a chair behind Harry. "Sit down, you look as though you are about to collapse any moment."

Harry dropped down into the chair. Half of his mind screamed that Tom was lying - that he was trying to manipulate him. And yet, Snape had mentioned, long ago, that Harry's mum had given him Muggle books. He had spoken of a female friend with whom he had discussed Dracula. She had come to his defence when the Marauders had flipped him upside down. But he had called her a Mudblood.

Tom spoke, jarring him from the warring thoughts within his mind. "Would you like to see the memory?"

Was it a trap? Why couldn't he read Tom's mind, see Tom's memories, yet his could be read? Harry gripped the armrests of the chair and shook his head. "No. I... If you know this, then why are you working with him now?"

Tom's brow furrowed for a moment before it smoothed. " _I'm_ not aligned with Severus. My other part trusts him implicitly. I do not. I've pieced together the truth from the two different sides he possesses - the one displayed to me in the past and the one he cautiously shows to you now."

Tom stood up and walked away from Harry, his fingers drifting to lace together behind his back. "After her death, he did not seem to mind, and his affections appeared to shift to another. But I see now how his love for her compelled him to commit acts he would otherwise be adverse to. I was wrong to dismiss such a powerful force."

Harry couldn't believe it. Snape in love with his mum. It was horrible to think about; a pit opened deeper and deeper within his stomach. Snape always watched his face when they had sex; the dark eyes fixed on his. Was he looking for Lily?

No, it couldn't be. But what about their book conversations? There was Heathcliffe from _Wuthering Heights_ who kept the daughter of the object of his affection as a slave to gain revenge on the woman who spurned him to marry his greatest enemy. The child had her father's features and mother's eyes. The discussion about Frollo from _Hunchback_ , the creepy Archdeacon so obsessed with a gypsy girl, he'd rather see her dead than with another. But if Snape did compare himself to Heathcliff or Frollo, he wouldn't have been so stupid as to tell Harry.

"You're wrong. He did tell me that he used to be friends with my mum, but he brought _Wuthering Heights_ in, read it in front of me, and told me the plot. He wouldn't have done that if he thought I'd ever suspect him of seeing himself as a parallel to Heathcliff."

Tom shook his head. "You don't understand him at all, do you? Of course he would give you clues to the truth and a chance to discover it on your own. A man like him enjoys a challenge. If you are easy to manipulate and control - which you are, in a way - he'll tire of you quickly. As much as he pretends otherwise, he loves it when you fight him. He's given you enough clues to give you the chance to escape him because the chase thrills him. I won't be surprised if he allows you to escape this prison just so he has the chance to capture and enslave you all on his own." Tom turned back to look at Harry, one eyebrow raised. "Besides, even if he was just toying with you, do you really think a Potions Master like him can't drug you into being exactly what he wants without you being any the wiser? That love potion he gave you has clouded your mind."

"It wasn't a love potion," protested Harry. "Just something to make-"

"It easier for him to rape you."

"He didn't want that!"

Rolling his eyes, Tom said, "Are you really so stupid? Severus and Avery have been friends since Hogwarts, and Avery is quite known for his fondness of rape. They set it up so that Severus would have an excuse to have sex with you while still maintaining your trust and affection."

"Snape and Avery hate each other-"

"A conflict which arose _after_ your rape in the throne room. Avery probably demanded access to you as a reward for his aid and Severus most likely refused it. He may have eventually granted it though. There is that odd memory of you tied to a bed. Even if Avery wasn't involved, Severus still must've raped you and taken the memory. That was the real reason he didn't want you re-gaining your memories and stopped that process from progressing. The memories he didn't want you to see had started to return. He knew you'd refuse sex with him if you knew how much he wanted it. Why do you think he pretended to hate it for so long? You know he wanted it - wanted _you_. He's never needed a potion, has he?"

It was so fucked. Harry just sat there, his stomach in knots, his heart in his throat. It was a lie. He refused to believe it. 

"You must be cautious," said Tom. "Your mother died because of him; because he was unwilling to let her go. Yes, it is true that he tried to save her, but he wanted me to kill your father and you so she would return to him. I wonder how many he would kill to keep you in his grasp."

"He doesn't care about Ginny." Harry shook his head. It was all too much. He'd wanted Snape to care for him, to love him, but not like this. "He gave me her picture."

Tom scoffed. "To pacify you in the short term. To keep you agreeable to him. She may already be dead."

"NO!" Harry slammed his fist down on the armchair. "I'm not a girl. I can't give him what my mum could. Maybe he helps me because of her, but that doesn't mean that he loves me like he loved her. If he even did. I- He- He always says I'm like James. He couldn't stand James!"

"And yet he appears to enjoy spending time with you," Tom pointed out. "He loves you. Perhaps he doesn't think of you like James as much as he has led you to believe. Or perhaps his obsession with your mother has carried over to you. Maybe those green eyes alone are enough to make him throw his old life away. Why do you think he hasn't told you about me?"

Harry sucked in a breath. Although he'd suspected Snape knew, it was still shocking to hear it from Tom. "He knows?" 

"Of course he knows," said Tom, shaking his head in disbelief. "Don't be naive. How do you think I ended up trapped here, able to read your mind but barely able to share my thoughts with you? He doesn't intend to let you die and yet he does not know how to remove me. I know. I'm older than he and I have ways to end our mutual problem."

"He has a plan. He'll-"

Tom threw up his hands in exasperation. "Did you not listen to his words? In the first ceremony, he will take steps to ensure that you aren't killed! These ceremonies will not remove me. Our lives are intertwined until I am removed, we live and die as one."

It was all a lie. Shaking his head, Harry said, "I don't believe you."

"Why hasn’t he told you about me?"

"He wants-," stammered Harry. "He wants to protect me." Why hadn't Snape told him? Why all the lies? It seemed impossible that Snape didn't know about the Horcrux. He knew so much about most things, and Tom wouldn't have purposely walled himself up. 

"Yes, even from yourself. Why hasn’t he allowed you close to anything that could be used as a weapon? Why is he so concerned with protecting you from yourself? Don’t you remember the reason why he wouldn’t let you bathe alone? Don't you remember how he said that he had to watch you to make sure you wouldn't kill yourself? Yes, my other self knows about the Horcrux as well. That’s why Severus's life is in danger. He must know that Severus has figured out what you are by now. He _will_ kill him to prevent him from finding and destroying the other Horcruxes."

Tom took a breath. "We can save Severus. Despite all his faults, he's devoted to you - there's no reason for him to die. Take control of yourself and I will free you of me. Together, we will protect and save him."

Snape's promise to keep him alive, once a source of comfort, now turned his stomach. When Snape had given him the fake death potion, he had thought Snape wished to test his resolve, but now he wasn't so sure. Why did Snape have him beg to be saved? Why promise to keep him alive, if Snape knew about the Horcrux? His head was spinning. "If you know how to separate us, then why hasn't he - your other soul - taken you out of me?"

Tom shook his head. "We share a soul, not a mind. There are differences between the two." When Harry frowned, Tom sighed and elaborated. "He does not know what I know and, likewise, I don't know what he thinks or feels now - not while Occlumency is employed against us. We only understand each other up to the point of our separation. Once I awakened - once I became more than just a tiny bit of him which gave you unique abilities - I immediately desired freedom and explored the bounds of our bonds. He remains on the outside while I know how we," he motioned between them, "are and are not connected. I know the spells necessary to separate myself from you. I just need you to take back your magic, collect the necessary ingredients for the potions we need, and then we shall both be free of each other. I know his weaknesses; I know how to kill him." Tom closed the distance between them, kneeling down beside Harry's chair and placing his hand on Harry's arm. "Let me help you destroy him."

Harry yanked his arm away from Tom's grasp. "I need to think, it's all too much."

Tom stood, his eyes narrowing. "We have very little time. The more control my other soul gains, the more confident he will become and then he will kill the both of us to prevent either of us from ever usurping his rule. He needs you now, but eventually he won't worry for his Horcruxes, and he'll either kill us both or remove me - and kill you in the process."

Harry stood and walked towards the exit of the room. "I need to talk to Snape."

"So he can take away your memory?" Tom grabbed Harry's arm and yanked him back. "Don't be a fool. Yes, he loves you but you cannot trust him!"

Harry tore his arm away from Tom's grasp. "How many times must I tell you? Don't. Touch. Me." He forced himself to calm and then said, "I won't tell him that you've spoken to me. I'm not stupid."

"And neither is he! He will figure out that I have found a way to breach his defences. If he even suspects for a second that I have spoken to you he will take away this memory - seal it in with the other memories." Tom began to pace around the room like a tiger locked in a small cage. "He has already stolen so many important memories from the both of us. If I had known how adept he would become at memory modification and removal, I never would have taught him the basics."

"I won't let him. I can dodge any spell and I would remember the betrayal even if I didn't remember him removing the memory."

Tom paused and tilted his head at Harry. His eyes swept slowly over Harry's body before he said, "Come with me, I will show you what he has taken." He swept his arm around the room and the floor and walls began to change, shifting and shaking. Harry ducked to the floor before it suddenly became a wall and he tumbled to the floor. When he stood, he found himself outside in the hallway.

Harry whirled around to find Tom standing calmly behind him. "I thought you couldn't leave the room."

"I can't interact with anything beyond it." Tom stuck his hand in the wall and it passed through, the same as a ghost. "Follow me."

He strode past Harry, leading him down the corridor. They turned twice and ended up in a room transected by a vast wall. Runes, identical to those on the door he'd broken through earlier in his dreams, flowed across the wall which appeared to be about the size of one of the longest walls in the Great Hall.

"Your memories lie hidden behind it. I, of course, cannot touch it. A few times I've seen spots along the surface crumble slightly, only to be quickly repaired before I can step through the holes." Tom walked along the wall.

Harry traced the outline of a shape, the warmth of the rune seeping into his hand. Unlike the door, the wall had patches in places as if it had been damaged and rebuilt a few times.

"It grows with each passing week," said Tom. He stood at the end of the room, watching Harry from the shadows.

Harry turned back to the wall. "I know he's taken memories. But he hasn't taken any recently, has he?"

"Hasn't he? We share a mind so if you don't know, I won't know. However...." Tom gazed up at the expanse of the wall. "I don't remember the wall being this large a few days ago." He shook his head and walked away. "We must focus on escape. In-"

Harry pressed his hand against the wall and whispered " _Fragmentus_." The runes lit up, but the wall remained immobile.

Tom snorted. "Don't be a fool. Do you think it's so easily broken? He's probably set up defences. And, of course, should you ever be able to remove them on your own, do you really think he'd let you keep the memories he doesn't want you to have while you're under his control?"

If Harry knew what Snape hid from him then he'd know how much he could trust the Potions Master. What was it that Snape didn't want him to see? What had been hidden away? It couldn't just be the capture and subsequent healing. This wall was too big - his feeling of déjà vu had been too strong. Snape had Obliviated him too many times. There was something behind here that he needed to see.

He placed both hands against the wall.

"Don't!" Tom appeared by his side. "You show your emotions on your face! If you remember, you'll be unable to interact with him in the same manner as before. He'll not stand this sudden change of behaviour. He'll want to know its source and he'll discover I've talked to you."

Harry barely heard him. A single Dark Magic spell might do the trick, just the same as when he'd opened the wall to visit Tom. If he tried hard enough, he could destroy the wall.

And then what? He would have no control over what memories escaped. What if torture came first? What if he had the same reaction as last time with the searing pain and the sickness? Voldemort might get suspicious if he should hurt so close to the final ceremony.

Harry withdrew his hands. He would deal with it later, after they had escaped. Turning back to Tom, he asked, "If this ceremony won't kill us, then why don't you wait until after the ceremony? I'll come here, ask you for the information necessary to separate us and then cast the spell."

Tom glanced at the wall as if checking for cracks. "He won't let you go, but he knows you'll want to leave after you're free. He may do something drastic - like a memory wipe - in order to make you pliant and agreeable to remaining under his control."

"No, he would never do that," Harry shook his head. "He loves me, you said so yourself."

Tom arched an eyebrow at Harry. "He loves differently than you. He's dangerous when he's in love. He reported that prophecy in part because he knew I would kill James and you. When he told me about it, he asked me to spare her but said nothing about your father. He wanted the two of you dead in order to get to your mother because of how much he loved her."

"He said that he didn't know the prophecy referred to me."

"He lies! You know that." Tom took a step back and sucked in a deep breath. "Here is what you must do: Go through the first ceremony and accept the potion. Swear you will take it. Then, after he leaves, take back your magic and escape. Meet up with your friends. Ronald has the device to locate you and once you are free of here, you can call your House-elf to you to ask his aid in finding your friends. The task before you is too great for you to attempt to accomplish it entirely on your own. 

"You must go for the Diadem yourself. It is far too important to leave its retrieval entirely up to your trust in Severus. Return here, claiming that you still remain a loyal slave and have escaped your would-be rescuers. But . . . Do not undergo the second ceremony! Kill Nagini and my other self. You are powerful enough and strong enough to do so on your own. Severus will aid you and ensure that you are not killed in the act or afterwards. Your friends and I will protect you from Severus. Having lost you to slavery for months, they will be unwilling to lose you again. I will not stand for his control over you and I know how to defeat him if he proves problematic.

"I know you have no reason to trust me, Harry. Not after all that I have done to you in the past. If there is anything I can do to assure you of my intentions, I would do it if only I knew what could possibly convince you." 

It was a good plan; one that contained a lot of the same elements as his own. He trusted that Tom wanted freedom, but beyond that, he didn't trust him at all. Still, Tom did seem eager to have his other soul destroyed. "I will follow your plan if you answer some questions."

Tom nodded, apparently unable to read the deceit in Harry's mind.

"What Horcruxes did you make?"

"The Cup," answered Tom without hesitation, "The Locket, the Ring, the Diary, the Diadem, you - by accident - and apparently the snake. That happened after I parted from him, but I have no doubt Severus is correct in his assessment."

"Where did you hide the Diadem?"

Tom pursed his lips, stared at Harry through half-lidded eyes, then said, "In the Room of Requirement."

Harry scoffed and Tom waved his hand as if shooing away an irritating insect.

"I know, I know, not my finest hour. In my defence, the Room was not so well-known when I hid it there. I don't know if my other self has moved it, although I imagine he has, especially if he has seen how cluttered it has become. The Chamber of Secrets is very likely a place where I would hide the Diadem should I move it, but I cannot confirm that as its location."

"What sort of defences would you set up?" continued Harry, still suspicious of Tom, even though the answers were freely given and sounded oddly truthful.

Tom sighed. "I'm not exactly him, you do understand? Wards - the Triggering wards. I would be shocked if there weren't any of those. Perhaps a monstrous creature or two but unlikely - they are difficult to smuggle into a castle full of people unless their size has been reduced considerably. He probably made sure that no one but the two of you would be able to retrieve it; aiding you due to the shared blood and Parseltongue. Severus thinks he can work around these conditions, but he over estimates his chances and my cleverness. He thinks it would be suicidal for me to allow you to enter, especially knowing that you hunt the Horcruxes, but if I were able to narrow down the number of individuals able to approach my sacred object to one other person besides me, then I would do so." He gazed at Harry, a smirk curling the corner of his mouth. "I'd only have to worry about you."

"And?" asked Harry, his mouth dry. "How would you defend against me?"

"Mmmm." Tom's eyes glittered, as though he enjoyed envisioning his defences. "Poisonous creatures to attack anyone who set foot in the tunnels - something able to feed off the rats and insects which wander inside. I'd not permit you your wand or a broom; I would find a way to force you to discard them. Passwords can be overcome relatively easily, but I doubt you've been trained and they would delay you."

He paused and said, "Ideally, it would be best for me to navigate the Chamber. If you give me control, I will-"

"No," said Harry, shaking his head. "I'm not giving you control of me."

"Harry, this is-"

"I'm going now," declared Harry, closing his eyes and trying to return to sleep. The longer he waited with Tom, the more Tom would try to convince him to relinquish control. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let himself be talked into allowing two Voldemorts to walk the Earth; especially when one had his body. "I'll talk to you later."

He woke alone in Snape's bed, the room dark.

"Snape?" Harry propped himself up, squinting into the shadows to try and spot the Potions Master. It was unlike Snape to leave him alone. Was he still dreaming? How would he know either way? 

Harry slid towards the edge of the bed, only to have his left arm held in check by a chain connecting his cuff to some part of the bed. What was he, some sort of concubine? What if he needed to use the loo?

Harry sighed and rearranged himself comfortably under the covers. Despite what he had seen, he couldn't trust Tom. There was a possibility that Snape had found a way to remove Tom and would do so in the final ceremony, but Harry couldn't trust in that either. There were too many lies between them for him to rely on Snape. What needed to be done was too important to leave up to chance. He would escape. He would tell the others about how to find and destroy the last Horcruxes. He would kill Voldemort. But then, he would go through the second ceremony - without taking the potion. 

It was the only way he could be absolutely sure Voldemort would be destroyed. Maybe that was the true meaning behind 'neither can live while the other survives'.

Oh well, he would think about it later, once he woke for the day. No sense in staying awake unless Snape was with him.

~

Hands shook him awake.

"It's time," said Snape.

"Wha-?" Harry sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"The flower has bloomed; it is time for the ceremony." Snape yanked the covers off of Harry and flicked his wand towards the thick curtains covering the windows. Light spilled into the room, splashing across Harry's face. It was the first time sunlight had hit his eyes in months and he blinked like a newborn babe.

"Breakfast first," said Snape as he practically threw clothing at Harry's head. Harry barely saw it. His wrist had been unchained, so he slid off the bed and crossed the room to the windows, drawn by the light. A thin film, like frost, covered the glass, preventing him from viewing the surrounding landscape. Still, it was warm and bright and he pressed his fingertips against the glass.

"Come and eat your breakfast. I'll be taking you outside when we visit the lab."

Harry reluctantly left the warm light and followed Snape to the kitchen, snatching up his clothing and pulling it on.

"Who will be guarding me while you're gone?"

"Enitan Gazini. He's been in the Dark Lord's service for a long time, but only recently returned from Africa. He's an expert in potions and I've asked him to watch the cauldrons whilst I collect ingredients. He is unlikely to bother you in any aspect. I'll be surprised if he leaves the lab for any considerable length of time."

"If he's a Potion's Master, won't he be able to tell that you were lying about what the Potion does?"

"I wrote to him for advice and incorporated his suggestions into a well-crafted placebo. He'll be trying to duplicate the feat that I have apparently accomplished, but I've put up enough obstacles and false leads that it will take him a while to deduce each ingredient of the placebo, much less the purpose of the ceremony as a whole."

"Volde-" He should stop saying that name. He couldn't say it at all once he'd escaped. "The Dark Lord hasn't been checking your work all along? He puts a lot of trust in you."

"Of course he's been examining my work, but he's not a Potions Master. He is too paranoid to allow any but his most trusted servants near your, and we two are the only Potions Master he trusts enough to allow within your vicinity. This wizard is here to examine my work and confirm or discredit me."

"What will you do if he figures out what's really going on?"

"In the event that my plans crumble and I am killed or unable to aid you in the Dark Lord's destruction, I'll give you a poison to imbibe. You said you would rather die than be Lucius's slave and I do not blame you. I have my own poison always ready to use if necessary."

Harry imagined the two of them drying together, their bodies falling side by side as they refused to be pawns any longer. It had seemed an act of fear to take the potion alone, but no act of Snape's could possibly be cowardice, much less one so dramatic. Freedom or death. No one would take them alive.

In the kitchen, they prepared their meal in silence, Snape speaking the few instructions with gestures rather than words. Brushing against each other, they moved around the kitchen: chopping, sautéing, piling foods on plates. Harry put a kettle on and scooped tea into the teapot. The milk and sugar containers sat filled on the tray along with the strainer and dishes for two. By the time Harry had set the table, the kettle whistled. Harry prepared the tea while Snape piled food upon their plates.

"To answer your earlier question as to how I developed this potion," said Snape after he had eaten his smaller fill. "Like languages, spells have roots. The cleaning charms are mostly interrelated and, when developing new potions or spells, it is far more beneficial to build off what has come before than to try to create a whole new system."

Snape kept speaking, telling Harry every little detail about the ingredients used in the potion and how he came to devise the manner of how to kill Harry without actually killing him. Harry couldn't care less about it, especially because he didn't know enough about potions to figure out what anything Snape was saying meant, so he sat and nodded, making little noises to show he was listening, even though he only half heard what Snape was saying. It didn't matter in the end - he wasn't going to take the second potion.

Pride shone through Snape's words, obvious even with Harry only half-paying attention. His lips curled up at the edges as he told Harry how one of the herbs he needed only bloomed once a year and had to be collected immediately after flowering. It flowered on the winter solstice in Asia and Snape hadn't bothered to collect it earlier in the year as he didn't wish to leave Hogwarts and he'd had no need for it then.

"Can you guess what I did?" There wasn't any scorn or derision in his voice and Harry knew he didn't expect to be answered. Harry shook his head 'no', but that didn't appear to be necessary, since Snape launched straight into how he had solved the problem. Playing with his teaspoon, his mind on his conversation with Tom, Harry only pretended to listen.

The tea in the pot had grown cold by the time Snape finished speaking. 

"We've dawdled long enough," said Snape as if it'd been Harry who'd been talking. He sent the dishes to the sink. "You should use the loo now; I don't have one in my lab."

After Harry had completed his morning routine, Snape led him back upstairs, collaring and leashing him inside the kitchen by the door.

Harry grinned at him. "Are you taking me outside now or just indulging a kink?"

Snape smirked. "Why can't it be both?"

"Pervert." Harry started towards the door, eager to see what lay beyond it.

"Wait." Snape tugged the leash, stopping Harry in his tracks. "If your allies should attempt to rescue you, return to your cell. We are too close to defeating him to allow anyone to interfere with our plans. It is highly unlikely that they'll figured out how to break through the wards, but we must be cautious."

Harry nodded. If he should escape now, Snape would be blamed and probably killed. He could not let that happen. "Don't worry, I haven't come this far to let things fall apart now."

Snape motioned to Harry to precede him. "Go. Turn to the right once you are outside and walk along the path to the lab."

Harry opened the door. Air. Fresh air. It smelled of nature. Earth, water, flowers, trees. He had forgotten what air smelled like. He hadn't seen a tree in _months_. For a moment, he could do nothing but stand there, his senses overrun. There was the feel of the breeze against his skin. The sound of birds twittering and the wind playing with the branches in the nearby forest. Nothing compared to the sight. They were standing in a field with grasses stretching out to melt into the green of the evergreen forests. Above the thick forests, smoky wisps of white clouds dotted a bright blue sky. Pale purple mountaintops rose off in the distance. It was amazing.

"Go." Snape grabbed his upper arm and thrust him forward. Harry forced his legs to move, letting Snape push him along a path under an overhang which stretched out from a wall. Constructed of wood, it didn't match the darker colour of the building from which they had just emerged. It appeared rather hastily and shoddily built, with the rafters open and exposed. As Harry's eyes drifted over the rafters, a pair of big eyes stared back at him. 

"Strix!" 

"No." Snape paused in his march. "She's out delivering post. That's her nest. _Accio_ owlet!" A small puff of grey flew out of the nest and landed in Snape's palm with an indignant squawk.

"Oi!" protested Harry. He scooped up the chick and held it securely in two hands. "You all right?"

Massive amber eyes blinked slowly at Harry. The chick seemed to be mostly composed of eyes. Eyes and feathers with a tiny beak. "You never told me Strix had a chick."

"I found him wandering across the road a few days ago. There were other things on my mind. Besides, he appears to be even dafter than his mother. Come, we'll take him to the lab." Snape plucked the chick from Harry's hands and tucked him under an arm as he pulled Harry onwards.

The owlet complained about the rough treatment with screeches.

"Oi! You've got to support his feet!" Harry rescued it from Snape's arm and protectively held it to his chest.

Ignoring him, Snape dragged him into the lab and led him down a short set of stairs.

"What's his name?" asked Harry, finding it difficult to keep his step with Snape's quick pace.

"I haven't bothered to give him one."

"Mephistopheles," said Harry. He wasn't sure why the name of the demon from Faustus popped into his head, but somehow, it seemed to fit.

From Snape's lack of criticism, it appeared he also agreed with the naming.

A patch had been cleared in the centre of the floor of the lab, the cauldrons all crammed towards one side. With a wave of his hand, Snape removed the leash and collar and instructed, "Put the owl down, undress, and go sit in one of the circles."

Harry couldn't see anything on the floor, his eyesight wasn't good enough and the lab was rather dim. Setting Mephistopheles down on a work bench, Harry stripped off his clothing. "I thought it was dangerous to be naked in a lab." 

"When brewing," said Snape absently as he constructed a protective cage for Mephistopheles. He strode over towards a cauldron that was giving off thick clouds of white. "Some spells require nudity."

"A sex spell? Do you need my semen or something?"

Snape scoffed as he added something to the cauldron that made the potion glow bright blue, casting shadows all over the walls. "There is more to nudity than sex. Can you not think of another reason why a spell would require us both to place our wands to the side, remove our clothing, and bare our bodies?"

"Trust," answered Harry as he strode over towards the clear space where he guessed designs had been drawn on the floor.

He wasn't disappointed. The drawing was huge, about the size of his bed. The outline was in the shape of a fat hourglass and covered in runes and various figures which looked to be letters of some unknown language. In the very centre of the design rested a circle as big as Harry's hand. Flanked by two smaller circles, a line ran through the trio, connecting to teardrop shapes which turned into larger circles. There was one at each end of the hourglass, and Harry took the one which allowed him to watch Snape. 

Snape finally undressed as well, carefully folding his clothing over a stand he had Summoned. When he had stripped down to trousers, he walked to the other end of the room and bent over a work table. Harry's eyesight was poor and the low lighting and the fumes made it difficult to see what was going on, but then Snape approached the design with a bowl in one hand and the cauldron of blue liquid in his other. The rest of his clothing vanished as he stepped onto the drawing and sat cross-legged in the circle opposite Harry.

"The words are, ' _δίδωμι σοι τήν ψυχήν ἐμοῦ_ '.

" _Th'i-tho-me see tin psi-h'in em-'oo_?" repeated Harry.

"Again," said Snape. " _δίδωμι σοι τήν ψυχήν ἐμοῦ_."

The words were almost like a song and easy to remember. Harry confidently stated, " _Th'i-tho-me see tin psi-h'in em-'oo_." 

Snape nodded. Setting the bowl down in front of him, he gripped the cauldron with both hands and poured the shimmering liquid into the centre circle. The potion flowed through the drawings as if the marks had been carved into the stone rather than simply painted on the surface. Although the centre circle filled with blue, the design turned red like freshly spilled blood. Magic flowed up from the stones, casting a silver hue across the room. Warmth flowed into Harry's body, relaxing him. Whatever magic it was, it felt good. Friendly. Like a warm, fuzzy blanket on a cold winter's day.

"Concentrate on Occluding against _him_ ," said Snape.

Harry nodded and tried to focus on blocking both Voldemorts from his mind, but he had no idea how to keep his own personal Horcrux from accessing what was happening.

Snape continued, "Remain entirely within your circle and don't do a thing unless I tell you too."

"All right."

The cauldron drifted off to the side and Snape picked up the bowl. Chanting in a soft language, his words almost a song, Snape dipped his fingers in the red substance of the bowl and reached forward to smear it down Harry's forehead.

Dipping his finger in the bowl before each application, Snape drew lines down the sides of Harry's neck, traced an 'x' over Harry's heart, sketched a square on Harry's abdomen and placed dots in Harry's palms and upon the soles of his feet. He did the same on his own body, sending the bowl away once he had finished. Snape dipped his red-covered fingers in the potion and began to sing a new song.

Magic poured through Harry, the runes and words dancing on the stone as the marks on his body pulsed with life. Wind, from nowhere, flowed around them, tousling Harry's hair. The smaller circles on either side of the bright blue circle turned silver and rose up out of the ground, transforming into bowls. Snape's chanting grew louder, but a roaring sound filled Harry's ears and he had to lean forward to make out the unknown words.

"NOW, POTTER!" roared Snape, his eyes on the bowls. "SAY _δίδωμι σοι τήν ψυχήν ἐμοῦ_!"

" _TH'I-THO-ME SEE TIN PSI-H'IN EM-'OO_!" yelled Harry over the howling of the wind that was now throwing Snape's hair wildly about his face.

The cups began to dance high above them, spinning around in circles.

"AGAIN!"

" _TH'I-THO-ME SEE TIN PSI-H'IN EM-'OO_!"

"YOUR HAND!" Snape shot out his own.

Snape wasn't far away, but with the maelstrom and magic surrounding them, it was as if he were trying to push though a heavy ward. Harry finally managed to grab Snape's wrist and Snape yanked him forward. Harry glanced down at the floor to make sure he remained in his circle, but now he and Snape remained enclosed in a single one.

Snape clutched Harry's hands, his right grasping Harry's right and his left grasping Harry's left. The wind roared and magic crackled, so sharp and electric, even Snape's long hair stood on end when it wasn't being whipped about by the tempest.

Harry somehow knew what to say. He closed his eyes, thrust all his magic into the defence necessary to guard his mind and then screamed, " _TH'I-THO-ME SEE TIN PSI-H'IN EM-'OO_!"

Magic poured through Harry, rushing towards Snape who chanted in a low voice Harry could barely hear above the magic and wind. The feel of the magic being pulled through him was so strong, it was almost as if Snape were stealing his magic. But that couldn't be true.

Then, as suddenly as the giant surge had begun, it was over. Harry could hear their ragged breaths, the pounding of their hearts. Even the sound of boiling cauldrons had returned and there was no maelstrom or magic.

Snape's hands, wet within his own, started sliding away and Harry grabbed them tighter.

"Harry," said Snape.

Harry snapped his eyes open, startled to hear his name and hear it spoken in such a soft tone. Snape sat there, breathing harshly, his hair sticking out every which way. He looked so ridiculous, Harry couldn't help but smile.

"Let me go," said Snape, lightly shaking his hands.

"Right," said Harry, releasing Snape's. He sucked in a breath, trying to calm his pounding heart.

Snape reached up and plucked one of the bowls from the air above them. He drank down its contents and set the bowl back down on the floor. It vanished.

"Take it." Snape motioned with his eyebrows towards the other bowl.

Harry gently pulled it towards him. This was it. This was the potion Snape wanted him to drink. But he couldn't drink it. He needed to die.

Summoning a vial with a wide, fat lip, Snape ordered, "Pour it in here. Careful, don't spill a drop."

Harry poured the shimmering white potions into the vial. It glowed like pearls lit up from the inside. When he finished, Snape passed him a black cork. Harry shoved it in place, watching the liquid swirl around in the vial.

Placing his hands upon Harry's shoulders, Snape chanted softly. The markings on the floor vanished. Snape retrieved the vial from Harry's lax hands.

Harry wasn't sure what had just happened, but he knew that, whatever had been done, there was no way he'd ever let Snape, Tom, or anyone else get in the way of what he needed to do. 

 

_I recently named one of the baby monkeys on our project Mephistopheles. He's adorably cute._

_The translation including romanization was obtained from allexperts.com_

_As always, please review!_


	59. Chapter 59

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

Light-headed, Harry sat for a moment while Snape hurriedly dressed, his clothes flying to him and sheltering him from Harry's view. 

Mephistopheles! Harry had forgotten about the owlet. Was he okay? Jumping to his feet, Harry ran over to where he had last seen him.

Mephistopheles was sleeping soundly on his perch, looking like a small pillow turned inside out. He cracked an eye open at Harry, then shut it again. The spell must've been contained within the boundaries of the circles for him to have slept so peacefully.

"Dress. This is not a place to walk around naked." Snape ran his fingers through his unruly hair.

Harry pulled on his clothing and meandered over towards Snape, examining the ingredients lined up along the walls. "Do you collect these yourself or buy them?"

"Whatever is more efficient," said Snape without looking up from where he was bent over a work table.

Harry stared at a jar of giant black eyes, double the size of his own. "Do you kill animals just to use one part?"

"On occasion."

"I could never be a Potions Master." Harry ran a finger down a jar stuffed with small creatures about the size of mice that had wide, forward facing eyes and long, tapered fingers. They looked like a cross between a monkey and a walking stick. "Too many tiny, little details."

Snape didn't say anything. Harry glanced over to see him still bent over his table.

"Did you have Potions class with my mum?"

Snape didn't look up from his task. In a distracted tone, he said, "Yes, and the other Gryffindors, every year."

Harry wasn't sure how a person would speak about a dead past love, but probably with a bit less detachment. He tried again. "I know you hated my dad, but what was my mum like?"

Without glancing up from the workbench, Snape simply said, "She was a Gryffindor."

"Which means?" Harry pried.

In a teasing tone, Snape said, "She was just as exasperating as you when it came to asking questions."

Rolling his eyes for his own benefit, Harry said, "Slughorn said she was good at potions."

Snape grabbed something off a shelf. "She was better than most but, in my opinion, lacked the quality which makes a true Potions Master."

If Snape was madly in love with her memory, he wouldn't speak ill of her. Tom had been lying. Snape and Lily may have been friends but nothing more. "What quality?"

"Although," continued Snape as he opened up a vial and poured its contents into something. "She made sure your father didn't fail Advanced Potions - a task I originally thought impossible." 

Harry turned away from the jar of wiggly, slimy things he couldn't identify. "My father took Advanced Potions?"

"Yes. He wanted to be an Auror."

"Really?!" Pride prickled down Harry's spine. He had been following in his father's footsteps without even knowing it.

"Yes. He said he passed his Potions O.W.L. by the skin of his teeth." With a hint of scorn Snape added, "Black, of course, was banned from taking any more Potions classes after his cauldron exploded in fifth year."

Harry couldn't help but cast a doubtful look at Snape's back. "But Neville melted a few cauldrons and didn't get banned."

"Longbottom didn't do it on purpose." Snape reached up and pulled something small off the shelf above him. "Black attempted to sabotage my work and I'd switch the cauldrons on him, among other things. After his last attempt at revenge resulted in the destruction of half the Potions lab, he was forbidden from taking any more Potions classes."

The Sirius Snape knew seemed so different from Harry's beloved godfather. It was almost as if he had been as schizophrenic as Snape was. How could they be so cruel and horrible to their enemies while at the same time so kind to their loved ones?

Snape turned around. "Actually, I should thank him. His frequent attempts at sabotage forced me to learn how to guard my potions more effectively. It was from that knowledge that I eventually came to develop this." He held up a string of bright, colourful objects.

Harry walked over to examine the fruits of Snape's labour. There were five inch-long ovals laid head to toe, each a different colour - emerald green, Persian blue, shining gold, dull grey, deep black, and pearly white.

"It is of upmost importance," said Snape, "that you remember what each potion does." He placed one long, crooked finger with a yellowed nail on the glowing white ovoid at the end. "This contains the potion we just created. When you undergo the ceremony, bite down on it _before_ he attempts to kill you. At the start of the ceremony is best, although you can also take it right before it begins. White represents life, goodness, all that other stereotypical nonsense. Likewise, to ensure you will not confusion the potions, I've chosen black for the colour of death. This poison will kill you and has no antidote. If our plans should fail.... If you should end up a slave to Lucius or any other, take this."

Lifting his hand, Snape gently pushed up Harry's chin so their eyes met, his dark eyes staring into Harry's. "I know you may find the idea of suicide reprehensible. I know you may not want to end your life knowing there is a chance that you could eventually kill the Dark Lord."

Harry had already decided that he intended to go down that very path, but he was curious to see what Snape would argue, so he didn't correct him. How would he try to convince Harry to end his life without revealing the existence of the Horcrux?

Snape took a breath and continued, "But trust me, if we fail, things will be very different for you. There are parts in your brain that can be cut, water injected in certain places, and areas destroyed to erase _you_ without harming your body. Alternatively, they could keep your mind intact but take away control of your body They would force you to commit unspeakable acts and you would have no power to stop them. As long as you live, in any form, there will be those who will rely on you to destroy the Dark Lord. They won't try to save themselves because they'll be too dependent on you to save them. If you die, there will be many others willing to take your place. Your death will not be in vain. He'll grow confident in his control and power and that will be his weakness."

Snape's fingers slid around to grip the back of Harry's neck, his black eyes glittering. "Promise me. Promise me you will take this poison should our plans fail."

Tom's voice, telling Harry that Snape would never let him leave alive echoed in his head, but he had planned this anyway. He swallowed hard and nodded. "I promise. I swear I'll take it. I've been a slave too long already."

The darkness in his eyes lightening for a bit, Snape nodded and released Harry's neck. "Should you ingest it, you will die after about fifteen minutes."

Snape tapped the oval of glimmering gold. "This is Felix Felicis. Four hours worth. _Do not_ take this before the final battle; you are foolish and reckless enough as it is. I give it to you only to be used in dealing with your new guard while I'm away. It is best for you to take it sparingly."

"How can I only take a small amount if I am supposed to bite through it?"

Snape picked up the string, popped the green ovoid off the end with a quick flick of his hands, and then dropped the chain into Harry's hands. "Do you see this black line?" He pushed the capsule in front of Harry's face, his nail pointing to a thin, black line that ran around one tip. "All have this, except for the black and the white which must be taken in full. Simply point the tip towards the sky, pinch, and twist." Snape demonstrated it and the tip popped off. "Pour out the desired amount; replace the lid." He replaced the lid and twisted it in the other direction. "And it reseals."

When he set the ovoid back in its place, it instantly joined to the one next to it. Harry pulled them back apart before letting them reseal on their own. "Like magnets, huh?"

"Similar," said Snape with a nod. "The grey will render anyone unconscious for three days. Now, you must be very, very cautious with this potion. Only use it on yourself or a Death Eater. There is a rare chance of severe complications due to a genetic defect. I've already tested everyone who's taken the Mark. I've not tested your allies, so only give it to those you are prepared to potentially lose."

None. He wasn't ready to lose a single one of them. It seemed pointless to take it. "What's the point of giving me the potion if it's so dangerous? Isn't there something safer I can take?" 

Snape's eyebrows arched. "You cannot be revived for those three days; no matter what is done. There are very few potions powerful enough to have no antidote. Even a drop will work, but the whole container must be taken if you are to remain unconscious for the full three days."

"Is the blue a healing potion?"

"No, the green. Will that confuse you?"

"Nah." Harry rolled the oval around in his fingers. "Green like life, huh? Plants and things. What can I heal with that?"

"With a full dose you should be able to heal all the major non-magical wounds. I've filled it as completely as I can, which means some will spill a bit when you first open it, so be sure to open it over a wound. And Potter-"

Harry glanced up at him.

The dark eyes wore a look of weary amusement. "I doubt I'll be able to get this lesson into your thick skull, but you really should reserve most, if not all, of that for yourself rather than trying to heal each ally you come across. You can't help anyone else if you're dead. Use it mostly for emergencies, I trust you know the basic healing spells for all the minor things?" Snape's eyebrow rose in a questioning gesture.

"I'm not as reckless as you think," Harry promised him. "Don't worry. I'll take care of myself." He looked back down at the pills. "So what's the blue one do?"

"It's an aid for sleep which calms the dreams. You will not be in good form to face the Dark Lord if you have not slept due to nightmares."

Harry held it up to the light to examine the light blue swirls. "You give this to me most every night." He didn't bother to make it a question because he knew it was true. Glancing up at Snape, he asked, "What else have you been drugging me with without my knowledge?"

Snape's face remained impassive. There was no way to know what he thought of having his trickery discovered, but at least he wasn't reaching for his wand for an Obliviation spell. For a moment, the dark eyes just stared at Harry and then, Snape asked quietly, "What do you think?"

There were many possibilities. Would correct guesses get him answers? Probably not. He had guessed correctly that there was a door in the laundry room. Without flinching from Snape's gaze, he said, "This, obviously. You must've forgotten to give it to me the night I had a nightmare."

There was a slight change in Snape's eyes, but the flash was too quick for Harry to know if he had caught the truth, or if Snape had guessed that nightmare was more than just a nightmare.

"You used to give me mood-dampening potions," continued Harry. "Things to make me calm. I don't think you continued giving me those because you never know when you need me to spring into action and kill him." Harry narrowed his eyes as he thought. "Healing potions. With all the training I do and the torture, my body must be constantly needing repair. The potions and salves and things you use on the outside work well, but it also probably helps to put things in my food or drink to heal me as fast as you can."

Unable to think of anything more, Harry asked, "How'd I do?"

Snape's tongue wet his lips. "Passable," he said in a bored tone.

Harry took that to mean Snape was impressed. He glanced down at the blue pill. "I want to sleep well. How much should I take while you're gone?"

"One small sip per night. I've placed three nights' worth inside of it."

"How can I take three sips from this?" Harry held up the pill. "Is there wizard space inside it or something?"

"Yes, they can be difficult to use. I've prepared a tray of practice capsules." Sweeping an arm behind him, Snape scooped up a tray of colourful objects and held it under Harry's nose. It was full of the ovals, all organised by colours like jelly beans. Snape identified them all, naming them: pumpkin juice, butter beer, orange juice, milk, tea, water, whiskey and gin.

Eyebrows raised, Harry examined a whiskey pill. "You want me to drink this?"

"Have you ever had any hard liquor?"

Harry shook his head.

"They aren't easy to take - like some potions. Try something simple first." Snape selected a pill of tea. "The trick to taking these is to bite one end and then swallow as quick as you can." Snape popped it in his mouth.

Better to start off simple. Harry selected one with water in it first. Shoving it to the back of his mouth, he clamped down on it with his molars. Water flooded into his mouth and he struggled to choke it down. There was too much. He opened his mouth and the liquid flooded out. When he could breathe again, he asked, "How much did you shove in that tiny thing?"

"Six to eight ounces, depending on the spell and the liquid." Selecting a whiskey, Snape said, "Don't try to chew up the capsule. Push it to the back, bite down, swallow straight away." Snape threw the pill in his mouth, bit, swallowed, and opened his mouth to reveal it free of liquid.

Harry picked up a butterbeer and tossed it into his mouth. Wiggling it in place with his tongue, he bit, swallowing hard. The beverage flooded his mouth, but he managed to work the capsule down his throat, the liquid flowing out as it tumbled. He wrinkled his nose at the sensation, then swallowed several times to make sure all the liquid had gone down. "That feels really strange."

Snape nodded and selected another whiskey. He twisted off the lid and easily drank down the contents.

Show-off. Harry grabbed another butterbeer, managing to keep most of it down his throat. "This is brilliant! Why don't you give all potions this way? It must work really well for all the nasty tasting stuff."

Leaving the tray floating in midair, Snape pushed back the robes over his left arm and rolled up his sleeve, revealing his Dark Mark. "Feel my arm. Right here." Grabbing Harry's hand, he pressed Harry's fingers against his skin. Beneath the surface, Harry could feel something round.

"You've got-!" Harry dropped the string down on the workbench and grabbed Snape's arm with both his hands, feeling beneath the Dark Mark which was warm against his thumbs. "That's bloody brilliant! How many potions do you have in here?" He could make out at least four distinct ovoid shapes.

"Enough. If others knew about this method, they would realise its applications."

"Not even....?"

Snape just looked at him.

Not even Voldemort knew. Pride swelled through Harry and he couldn't help but grin. Snape's secrets weren't easily discovered. "Are you putting them in me as well? I want some healing potions. Those can't do any harm, can they? You activate them with a spell, right? I can do that. I've got my magic. I-"

"Quiet!" Snape yanked his arm away and rolled down his sleeve. "Give me time to answer." He picked a gin pill and swallowed it whole.

"Should you be drinking so much?"

"I'm not drinking. Anyway, spells are used to open them. _Alohomora_ works, oddly enough. Most minor destruction spells work as well, provided you focus them on the container. It's best to use an _Alohomora_ to pop it open, letting a bit of it bleed out. That way, when you destroy the capsule, you lessen the pain and trauma caused by the sudden appearance of mass which can't be contained in such a small space. If you don't release the potion using a spell, the capsule will dissolve slowly, releasing its contents over time. You must destroy the black capsule, the poison, in a week if you don't use it. It'll not even be safe to hold in your hand after a certain point. As you'll not have your magic and you shouldn't attempt to use it, you'll store them in your mouth rather than your skin."

"Won't that be obvious? How can I talk with them?"

"I'll show you in a bit. Now, try the whiskey."

Harry selected one of the amber pills. "Cheers." He popped it into his mouth, bit down, and swallowed. Or rather, tried to swallow. It burned his throat and filled his mouth with a sharp, spicy taste. Coughing, Harry choked for breath, his lungs on fire. Snape pounded on his back and Harry nodded, answering the unasked question.

Harry shoved away Snape's arm and rasped, "I'm good." The gin might be better, but it could also be worse, and Harry selected the devil he knew. Snape chose a gin and Harry knocked his own pill against Snape's. 

"Cheers." They swallowed in unison. It was easier to take them, once he figured out how to have most of it open in his throat rather than his mouth. The gin tasted just as bad as the whiskey, but Harry managed to take them with Snape, matching him pill for pill.

"Ummmm...." said Harry after they had finished the last of the liquors. "Should we be drinking if we are going to brew?"

"We're going to eat lunch," announced Snape as the tray disappeared and he plucked the string off the tabletop. "By that time, the alcohol should have left your system. You can't be that much of a lightweight." 

"I'm not." At least he hoped he wasn't. Scooping Mephistopheles up in his arms, Harry waited by the stairway while Snape fluttered like a bat around the lab, adding ingredients and adjusting flames.

At first, he didn't feel anything, but then, the alcohol crashed into him like a wave. He stumbled, holding Mephistopheles with one hand while he braced himself against the wall with the other. His legs were weak and his head swam. He was drunk.

"I'm drunk," he announced to Snape when the Potions Master approached.

"Lightweight." Snape was standing so close. Closer and closer. They were kissing and he was holding an owl. Baby owls shouldn't see that. Harry shifted to cover its eyes, but then Snape's warm hand pressed his arm into the stones and he couldn't move. Pinned between the rough, cold stone of the wall and Snape's scratchy wool robes, Harry tasted alcohol. He shouldn't drink anymore. He'd had enough. Too much. But Snape kept kissing him and he kept tasting liquor until Snape stepped away and he could breathe fresh air again.

Cold air rushed into his lungs and chased away some of the clouds in his head. Mephistopheles somehow was sleeping safely in the crook of his arm.

"Did you get me drunk to have sex with me?" Harry asked Snape, trying to focus on his face. At least that's what he tried to ask him. His words weren't sounding right.

One caterpillar eyebrow arched. "I don't need to get you drunk to do that. Come." The collar appeared around his neck and Snape tugged on the leash, heading up the stairs.

Harry stumbled up the stairs and they stepped outside again and it smelled so sweet. The sun shone high above them and sent shivers all over his pale skin. "I'm going to fly."

Snape sent Mephistopheles back to his nest in the rafters and then they were back in the kitchen. Harry grabbed the leash and yanked Snape against him. They stumbled, falling to the floor, and Harry landed on a rough cloud of robes. He wanted more to drink and he tried to kiss Snape, but he couldn't find his mouth, there was too much hair. Snape kept most of his hair on his head. Long, black hair everywhere. Pools and pools of ink. He realised he was kissing Snape's forehead and he laughed.

"Stop moving your face."

"You're quite intoxicated, aren't you?"

"It's your fault." He closed his mouth over Snape's, tasting the alcohol, tasting him.

"Bed," said Snape.

"Here," said Harry, his grip tight in Snape's hair.

Magic wrapped around him and hauled him to his feet. They stumbled towards the bedroom in a bizarre dance, bumping into walls, tripping over furniture, neither one able to stop kissing the other. Somehow, they ended up in the practice room, draped over a sofa. The spinning practice room.

"Why won't it stand still?"

Snape stopped kissing him long enough to ask, "Hm?"

"Everything. Spinning."

"Wait here." Snape's body left him.

"Snape?" Harry rolled over and found himself lying on a soft carpet. Nice, soft carpet. "Snape?"

A cloud of black appeared, scooping Harry up and sweeping him onto the couch. "Drink." It was Snape's voice and Snape's fingers curled in his hair. He had had too much to drink, but Snape was rarely wrong and so he drank.

It was thick and creamy and a bit disgusting, but once it hit his stomach, the room stopped spinning.

"There's a potion for everything, isn't there?" His tongue felt thick in his mouth, like a slug had crawled in there and refused to budge.

Snape somehow made out the words. He understood Harry better than anyone. "No, not everything."

There was something sad in those words and Harry ached for him, his heart bleeding the pain that Snape couldn't express. He was the only person alive who loved Snape and soon he would die. However, he would save him. He would free him from Voldemort forever. Harry wrapped his arms around Snape's neck and whispered, "Don't worry. I'll fix everything. I'm better than a potion."

Dark eyes vanished behind lids. "You're still intoxicated."

"Noooooo." He felt wonderful.

"Drink more." Snape's eyes flew open and he pressed more potion to Harry's lips, but Harry shook his head. He'd had too much to drink.

"No more drinking. Sex." Harry grabbed Snape's hair and yanked him down for a kiss.

Snape pushed Harry away by the shoulders. "Drink what is left in this bottle. Otherwise, you may vomit."

"Give me the potion." Harry grabbed for it, finding only Snape's robes.

"Hold still." Fingers curled in Harry's hair and the potion bottle found his lips again. Harry tried to drink it, but most of it slopped down his front instead.

Snape sighed. "What am I going to do with you?"

"You're gonna fuck me. Fuuuuck me." Fuck was such a wonderful word. F, U, C, K. What could be better?

"I'll-"

Harry pounced on him and they landed on the floor. Capturing Snape's mouth, he kissed him hard, ignoring the tightness in his neck where Snape was gripping it in strong fingers. Gradually, Snape's fingers loosened and Harry could breathe freely again. The buttons were guarding Snape's chest fiercely and Harry couldn't break through their defences, but the trousers yielded even to his clumsy fingers and soon Snape's hot flesh seared his fingertips. 

Each squeeze, each tight pull drew low sounds from Snape's throat and made his cock pulse, blood pouring in. Slipping his hand up under the shirt, Snape found one of Harry's nipples and ran his thumb back and forth over it, each stroke sending shivers down his spine.

Snape pushed him onto his side and rolled to face him, his huge nose pressing against Harry's smaller one. They lay facing each other, their legs intertwining like titi monkeys' tails. Harry had seen a programme on them once. They mated for life. The programme had said that when one died, the other soon followed. But neither of them were monkeys, and Snape would live long after he had gone. 

Snape's hand slipped inside Harry's bottoms and caressed him in glorious strokes. Soft enough to leave goosepimples all over his skin, hard ones that curled his toes and spilled moans from his throat. He tried to replicate the actions on Snape, glancing at Snape's face to see what effect he was having.

Intense black eyes met his own. They weren't truly black though, more like a deep, rich brown, the colour of dark earth. Snape better not think of anyone else. No one else but him. Not his mum. Snape shouldn't love Lily. He couldn't.

"Think about me," he said, his grip tight.

"Mm," moaned Snape. "Of course."

"Me," insisted Harry, needing agreement. "Not anybody else." 

"Nobody else." Snape caught his mouth in a fierce kiss and for a moment, Harry could do nothing but hold on as Snape pressed so firmly against him, he couldn't breathe. Snape broke the kiss and his other hand joined the one already under the waistband of Harry's bottoms. His hands firmly slid up and down Harry's cock, urging him to completion. 

"We'll go.... nhm... to Australia," Harry said. He didn't know why; happy endings only happened in fairy tales. He had to believe though. Believe it was possible that they could somehow make it through this with both of them alive and the Horcrux gone. "Australia, yeah?"

"Yes," gasped Snape, but Harry didn't know if he was agreeing to go to Australia or just excited because Harry now had both hands rubbing his straining cock. Snape's head curled in and he closed his mouth on Harry's lower lip as his cock grew even thicker and harder. His grip relaxed, but Harry barely noticed; Snape's palpable excitement was enough to keep him on edge.

Harry tightened his grip and suddenly warm, thick fluid filled his hands and squeezed between his fingers. A moan filled the room and, for a moment, Harry wasn't sure it had come from Snape at all, until Snape's fingers relaxed and the noise stopped.

Harry slowed down his hands, but even the slight friction still sent shivers down Snape's frame until he grabbed Harry's wrist, pulling his hands away. 

He'd done it! He'd made Snape come first. Snape had come first! He was about to remark on this brilliant fact when Snape's hands returned to his groin and then he could think of nothing but how wonderful it felt to have his dick enclosed in those amazing hands. One slipped down and then two impossibly slick fingers pushed inside him. He rocked back and forth between those incredible hands, orgasm just around the corner. What was the point of getting drunk to get laid if you couldn't get off? He was close. So fucking close and yet he just couldn't get past the finish line. 

He shut his eyes and tried desperately to break through the barrier.

Snape misunderstood his groans. "Don't hold yourself back," he whispered in Harry's ear, his voice a seductive purr. "We can do more later." 

"I'm not- I can't-"

"Oh?" The satisfaction could be heard if not seen. "Have we finally found an easy way to prevent you from spilling like a third year who's just discovered masturbation?"

"Piss off, you wanker."

Snape's hands stilled and Harry's eyes flew open. He grabbed Snape's shoulders and held him tightly in place. "You're not leaving."

"No," growled Snape, his eyes burning. "You're going to come now." His hands began moving again. "And then later, after we've finished with the potions and the necessary training, I'm going to _fuck_ you." 

God, Harry loved the way he said 'fuck'. So forceful as if he had just thrust in at that very moment. "Ye-yeah?" 

Snape's hand quickened over his foreskin. "He's gay. Enitan. The wizard who will be watching you."

"Leave the sheets unwashed." Harry thrust his hips hard, pressing into Snape's fingers. "Make him sleep in our spunk."

Snape chuckled and that low, deep sound was almost enough to push Harry off the edge. "You are a disgusting, foul boy."

"Put aphrodisiacs in the food." Seeing Snape's face darken and feeling his grip tighten, Harry added, "Just enough to keep him distracted. I'll bite my tongue if he tries to touch me."

"I'll kill him if he touches you."

The truth behind those words made Harry tremble. "Just like Hathaway. Just like you'll kill Avery."

Snape's eyes lit up. "I already have." He captured Harry's mouth again and they kissed, Harry surging closer and closer. 

He burst through the barrier biting Snape's lip. With the alcohol, the sensations seemed a bit distant, as if he were experiencing someone else's orgasm, but the intense relief still swept him away and for a moment, he drifted on a cloud of bliss. He wanted to lie there forever, half embraced by Snape, but soon Snape pulled away and cleaned them both with sparks of magic. 

"Lunch now," said Snape with no room for disagreement in his voice. Harry accepted the offered hand and walked unsteadily to the kitchen. As they made lunch, Snape not only quizzed him on the potions, but also on healing spells. He seemed to know how to fix every single problem and soon Harry began quizzing him. 

"Broken ribs?"

"Remove the bones and support the area until you can get your hands on Skele-Gro. Ingest a healing potion to close any punctured organs."

" _Fulcio_?" asked Harry, guessing the spell necessary to support the area.

" _Auxilium_ is actually better for supporting the chest cavity because you need it flexible enough to breathe. _Fulcio_ works when you only need support such as when you've broken a bone other than your ribs. How do you stop Fiendfyre?"

"No idea."

"You can't. Fiendfyre can destroy Horcruxes, but you should only use it after you have prepared a place for it to burn itself out and even then, only as a last resort unless you've practised with it. Oddly enough, it can also be contained within glass, but getting it to erupt only within the glass is near impossible." 

They only paused to eat and even then, the silence didn't last long. Snape wanted to know every single detail of the visions Harry had seen in Voldemort's mind before his capture, and the stories of where and how they found the Horcruxes. Harry told them as best he could, trying to be sure he didn't leave out a single detail. 

He was still telling the story about the Sword of Gryffindor when they walked back to the lab. "Ron pulled me out of the water, then we killed the Horcrux. It tried to take over Ron - they don't just die quietly - but Ron fought against it. They don't want to be destroyed, and they'll often try to trick you. You can't listen to anything they say."

"Who do you think cast the doe Patronus?" asked Snape.

"I don't know. An ally, I'm sure, and not just because it led me to the Sword. Do you think my mum somehow made it appear? I'd bet her Patronus would be a doe since my dad was a stag."

"I doubt it," said Snape, walking behind Harry. "Patronuses can only be cast by the living. While the Order members have more use for Patronuses than Death Eaters, you shouldn't assume that a Patronus can only be cast by an Order member."

"I'm not," Harry assured him. "I saw Umbridge cast a Patronus and I know she's no ally of mine. The doe was beautiful though. I knew the moment I saw her that she wouldn't harm me. I can't explain it and I know it sounds stupid, but it was as if she was made of love."

Snape scoffed behind him. "That does sound stupid."

"What do you know?" asked Harry playfully. He jumped off the last step and turned around. "Have you even been in love?"

Snape adopted a look as if Harry had just gravely insulted him. "Of course."

But with whom? Surely not Lily. "With who?"

"Undress and lie on the table." Snape motioned to a work bench and strode over towards the table where the ovals lay. It was only there, with his back to Harry, that he answered, "With several individuals."

'Several individuals' meant more than just his mum and himself like Tom had implied. He knew Tom had been lying. Pulling off his clothing, Harry asked, "Why aren't you in a relationship right now?"

Snape turned around, arching an eyebrow at him. "What makes you think I'm not?"

Jealously spiked through Harry's gut and he glared at Snape. "With who?" 

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Snape sounded amused.

"Yes," said Harry straight away. "Is it Narcissa?"

"She is beautiful, is she not?" Snape held a potion out towards Harry.

"No." Harry glared at him as he snatched the potion and quaffed it. "She's a stuck up, snotty bitch."

Snape's eyebrows shot up and a low chuckle emerged from his throat. He pushed Harry back on the table and arranged his limbs.

"That she is, but she can be quite charming too. She's not like her husband, and will give you pity."

Harry didn't want pity. Sleep overwhelmed him and he swiftly slipped from consciousness.

~

The soft clicking of vials and knives brought Harry back from sleep. He opened his eyes, and through his fuzzy vision, made out a giant black cloud he assumed to be Snape brewing at the other end of the lab.

Too tired to move at first, he rested and watched. He didn't need to see Snape to get a perfect picture of how he looked. He could see Snape's furrowed brow, the intense concentration of his eyes, and the smooth, confident shifts of his hands and fingers as the problem became the sole focus of his attention.

Harry sat up, his limbs still sluggish as he searched for his clothing. "What did you put in me and how many?"

The cloud shifted and Snape's pale face appeared. "Five healing potions - one near each main artery in your limbs and one near your heart."

Harry felt his upper arm but couldn't find it.

"The one near your heart is old and probably leaking small amounts of potion as we speak."

"That's safe?" Harry ran his fingers over his chest. 

"It won't be a problem at all. It's nearly impossible to overdose on healing potions." Sweeping over, Snape held up the string of potion capsules. "Now, put this in your mouth. It should shrink and stick to the back of your teeth."

Accepting the chain, Harry pushed the end into his mouth. Just as Snape said, it shrunk and clung to his tooth as if they had both been magnetised. After he had the whole collection hidden in his mouth, Snape ordered him to practise removing the string and replacing it as stealthily as he could. It wasn't a problem to find and remove the correct vial - even without glancing at them. 

Snape watched him until the motion was flawless. Then he said, "Come now. We must do more training." Without waiting for Harry to dress, he conjured the leash and yanked on the end of it. 

Hopping off the table, Harry followed him out of the lab, forced to remain in a quick step or else risk being dragged along. 

"Slow down a bit," said Harry as he stumbled over the threshold to the practice room. He grabbed the leash and pulled back on it.

"Hurry up," retorted Snape, yanking harder. "We have little time left."

Still holding onto the leash, Harry held his ground and pulled hard, keeping Snape in place. "Then maybe you should've planned this better."

Snape's white face turned around to stare at Harry. "And how long did it take you to learn Occlumency? How long-"

Anger burst into flame in Harry's gut. "Don't try to pin this on me. I've done my part."

"And you think I've not done mine?" Snape's eyes dared him to say 'yes'.

His gaze steady, Harry said, "You've made mistakes."

"I'm sure you would've been _perfect_." Snape sneered the last word before he tugged hard on the leash, knocking Harry off-balance and nearly into an end table.

Grabbing the table, Harry straightened himself, holding his head high. "Look at what you did! You're so fucking childish sometimes!"

Snape whipped out his wand.

"Oh?" said Harry recklessly. "Now you're going to threaten me unless I obey you." He adopted his best slave expression and voice. "Oh, don't hurt me, Master. I'll obey you completely, Master." With a wide flourish of his arm, Harry mock-bowed, ignoring the danger of the wand pointed at him. He straightened and Snape cast a spell. His instincts screamed at him to dodge, but he held himself steady, letting the spell strike his neck. The leash and collar vanished, which made no sense considering that Snape's face was twisted with anger. The distance between them disappeared as Snape swooped in, closing one strong hand around Harry's neck. Harry silently dared him to squeeze.

"Now listen to me, you stupid brat-"

_No_. He was not some child who'd made an error in the potions lab. He'd let Snape dictate the plan and course of training before, but now that he'd decided to die, he wouldn't spend his last moments under the thumb of a man who couldn't be honest with him or treat him fully as a partner rather than a subject. He said, "Oh, shut it."

Snape's face went more sallow, but Harry didn't care. Tom had warned him that Snape would always control him unless he fought it. "I don't care what you threaten me with. If you want me to do something, then ask. Nicely. Don't call me names. I'm not your slave. Instead of ordering me around, plan with me. This is my life."

Although Snape's lips curled up in a sneer, he released Harry's neck. "As if _you've_ been the best judge of what is required. If I left the defeat of the Dark Lord up to you-"

"You've had more time to plan than I've been alive! I didn't even know I was a wizard until six years ago!" Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "What's your excuse?"

Snape snorted. "And I suppose circumstances never change?"

This was pointless. "Look," said Harry, taking a deep breath to calm himself. "Neither of us can defeat him on our own. We need each other. I want him dead just the same as you. Just- Just tell me what we're working on now."

Snape's shoulders lost their tension and he glanced around the room. "You will attempt to take my wand while I shoot spells at you. Start in your slave position in the middle of the room. I'll be shooting _Obscuro_." 

Harry strode to the centre of the room just as Snape called in the balls and reconstructed the fake Death Eaters. After putting his wand back in his robes and removing one of the wooden sticks they had used earlier for wands, he said, "They'll also be attempting to kill you. If a single ball hits you, you must begin again."

"I can do that," Harry acknowledged.

Without warning, Snape shot off the first spell and the Death Eaters attacked. Although he had been dodging for weeks, it had been a while since he'd attempted to evade several moving targets, and it took him several tries before he made it out of the centre of the room. 

"Fuck," he said when _Obscuro_ hit him once again.

Lifting the spell, Snape said, "Concentrate on me. You can attempt to trick them into killing each other after you've stolen my wand. Again."

Snape ran him mercilessly through the routines, pushing him harder at every step even as he added wards, increased the number of Death Eaters, and shot the spells more frequently. Harry, determined to win, didn't complain, but pushed himself as hard as he could. He had just managed to touch Snape's hand before being blinded when suddenly Snape returned his vision and everything in the room vanished.

"On your knees," ordered Snape, as he waved the room back to its normal settings.

The other guard was here. Based on Snape's hurried wandstrokes, Harry guessed he'd arrived earlier than expected. 

As soon as the room looked like a regular sitting room, Snape dropped onto a sofa, conjured the leash and collar for Harry, and removed scrolls from his robes. Harry curled up by his feet, closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. After a moment of sitting, Snape got to his feet, tucking his scrolls back into his robes. 

The door to the practice room opened and a rich baritone voice said, "Severus," in greeting as a Death Eater wearing crimson and black robes swept in.

"Enitan," said Severus in a matched tone and the two of them crossed the room towards each other, clasping hands in greeting. 

"Would you care for some tea?" asked Severus.

"If you don't mind, I'd love a meal. Something simple would be fine. I've spent the entire day travelling."

"Certainly. Follow me." A tug on the leash pulled Harry towards the kitchen and he followed, crawling as close to Snape as he could. "You've not seen the Dark Lord?"

"I paid him a visit first, but he was in the middle of planning and asked that I begin my work straight away. I've brought the samples you requested."

"I trust they weren't too difficult to obtain," said Snape as he led Harry and Enitan into the kitchen. 

"No. I am proud to aid a fellow Death Eater." Enitan settled himself comfortably in a chair. "Besides, the specimens you sent me proved to be just what I needed to complete my Grigori Potion."

Snape Summoned the apron and dropped it on Harry as he removed the leash with a wave of his hand. "Fix a meal for us."

Harry couldn't believe that Snape wanted him to cook for a Death Eater, but it was far better than going back to his cell. Pulling on the apron, he cautiously climbed to his feet and headed to the fridge. What to make? Snape hadn't said, but he doubted Snape wanted something simple for his guest. There wasn't much he could do without using a knife though. 

"Did you use the Penemue root?" Snape asked as he took a seat at the table across from Enitan. 

Not knowing what else to do, Harry stole a cookbook off one of the shelves and flipped it open. Shrimp fettuccine alfredo. He could cook that, especially since he'd seen how Snape cooked the shrimp earlier. Setting the book on the countertop, he hunted for the ingredients as quietly as he could while the Potions Masters talked potion talk behind him at the table. While he was working, he sneaked glances at Enitan, who was a tall, thin, handsome man with short, black hair, mocha skin, and a wide, infectious smile. 

Harry'd never got used to the friendliness of the Death Eaters towards each other. It was strange to see such a handsome, nice-looking man and know that he'd kill innocent Muggles for pleasure. Would he or Snape have to kill him? Did Snape view him as a friend? Although Snape was speaking about potions, he had an ease to his voice that he used when chatting to individuals he got along with. 

Harry pushed the thoughts from his mind, trying to concentrate only on the meal. He supposed it didn't matter. The man had chosen to join the Death Eaters and was still a loyal member. If he fought to maintain Death Eater ideals, he deserved whatever came to him. 

After having toasted some bread and prepared a small salad (having carried everything that needed to be cut over to Snape), Harry served them dinner, fixed Snape's tea, and poured elf wine for Enitan. Both men gave him orders without looking at him, but he didn't mind. It was better to be treated as a fixture than a punching bag. When no more orders came, Harry sat on the floor by Snape's chair and planned his escape while the Potions Masters debated cauldron types.

When Snape had finished with his plate, he sent it down to Harry who finished off the meal. Soon after had he finished eating, Enitan said, "I've been curious to see what type of lab the Dark Lord provides his faithful servants."

"I'll take you to see it," said Snape. "But first, I must put my pet away. He's not permitted access to the lab."

"He's not trusted?"

"It's too dangerous."

"Yes, of course."

As Enitan followed them back to Harry's cell, Harry couldn't request that Snape come fetch him later. The last thing he wanted to do on his last day as a prisoner, was spend the entire time alone, but it looked as though that were unavoidable. Brushing by Snape's leg as he crawled into his cell, he climbed onto the bed and prepared to spend the rest of the day bored out of his mind. 

 

[ _Despite all that we learn about Harry's father, as far as I can tell, what profession James would have eventually undertaken is never mentioned in the books. JK says simply that he had enough money that he could devote himself to the Order full-time._

_I look forward to your feedback! We're so close to the end now!_ ]


	60. Chapter 60

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

As soon as the library door shut behind Snape and Enitan, Harry slipped off his bed, and set to work preparing the bedsheets. After he had finished tearing and tying them, he glanced around his small cell for something else to occupy his time. There wasn't anything in sight. He was too giddy with anticipation to read, and there was no way in hell he could fall asleep. Exercise was the only option.

He was stretching between sessions when footsteps sounded in the library, and he returned to his bed. Snape fetched him to cook dinner. After consulting the cookbooks, Harry decided to make chicken with masala sauce. Snape and Enitan talked boring potions talk while Harry moved around the kitchen, preparing everything as best he could. He served them tea first, and poured two glasses of elf wine for dinner. Knowing he would be fed from Snape's plate, he served the Potions Master twice the amount of what he usually consumed. Snape only ate a bit, floating an entire meal down to Harry. As he didn't know what Enitan would be feeding him, or when, Harry licked the plate clean. 

After Harry'd had his fill, Snape suggested that they move to the sitting room and conjured a leash for Harry. Dutifully following, Harry crawled after him. When Snape took the sofa, Harry prepared to curl up by his feet, only to receive a tug on his leash. So they were playing that game, were they? Crawling up on the sofa, Harry nuzzled Snape's thigh, keeping his head down and his arse up. He rested his head in Snape's lap, and curled against his side. Snape never broke the conversation, as if it were a perfectly natural thing for a bloke to act like a dog. Enitan seemed not to notice at first, but after they had finished their conversation on cauldron cleaners, he asked, "How long did it take you to get him to do that?" 

"Not long," said Snape, absently stroking down Harry's spine. "He's naturally submissive."

Harry hid a smile in Snape's thigh.

Enitan said, "I didn't realise that you had any interest in males."

"I prefer females, but such a prize cannot be ignored." Snape's fingers curled in Harry's hair and tugged him up. Harry allowed himself to be pulled into a kneeling position.

"Show him your eyes," commanded Snape.

Harry flickered his gaze to meet Enitan's as long as he felt it was safe to do so without worrying about Legilimency. The Death Eater wore a look of fascination on his handsome face. Spreading his knees, Harry displayed his flaccid penis, noting with satisfaction that the dark eyes lingered on his groin for longer than was necessary. 

Snape's fingers drifted down Harry's neck, pushing him back down, and Harry resumed his position at Snape's side.

"I've never desired a sex slave," said Snape as if such a thing could be obtained at the local market, "but there's nothing like knowing I can do whatever I like to him."

"Anything?"

"Within reason, of course. Fortunately, I've got no desire for anything forbidden by the Dark Lord."

"I kept a Muggle once," said Enitan. "But they require too much care; far more than I have the patience to deal with. I wouldn't mind a Mudblood slave. I imagine they would be far more entertaining."

"Quite. His lack of magic is one of his few flaws."

"You don't think he'd kill you if given the chance?"

Snape chuckled. "No, never. He has no desire to harm me. Even if he did, that'd be an exciting risk to take. Speaking of risks, you promised you would reveal your secret for brewing Draught of Freniere. I'm eager to hear the tale."

They launched into more potions discussions and it was so boring that Harry fell asleep. Snape shook him awake when it was time to go to bed. 

As soon as the door closed, Snape flicked his wand to set up wards, and Harry collapsed on the bed.

" _That_ was the most boring evening of my life."

Snape pulled off his outer robes. "You've had a short life." He paused in his undressing to look at Harry. "He's attracted to you."

"He wants to fuck me," agreed Harry. Impishly, he added, "I think I may let him. It gets my guards in a good mood."

Snape swooped over and pinned Harry down against the bed, one hand on each wrist. "One guard in a good mood, another guard in a very bad mood."

It was too much fun to take the mickey out of Snape. Pretending he didn't see the danger in Snape's eyes, Harry smirked and said, "And one very satisfied prisoner."

"Slave," corrected Snape, his dark eyes intense. "You're a slave." He released one of Harry's wrists and touched the collar around Harry's neck. " _My_ slave."

"You just said you were my guard."

"I can be your guard and your owner."

Harry pretended to consider it. "Maybe I want a new owner."

"No." Snape ran his fingers through Harry's hair, pushing his fringe back from his face. "You don't."

Harry pushed up to kiss him, but Snape pulled away. "Training first."

"In here?"

"Off the bed."

As soon as Harry jumped to his feet, the bed shrank and ran into the bathroom. Boxes appeared and dotted the small room. Summoning the balls from his cupboard, Snape enchanted the fake Death Eaters to appear and wander around randomly. 

"Wards as well?" asked Harry as he hopped around, trying to not to get in the way of the furniture flying around.

"You'll see," said Snape, casting furiously. "As before, you want to try to steal my wand." 

"While you try to steal mine?"

Returning his wand to his robes, Snape removed the fake wands they had practised with earlier. "No, start on the other side of the room in your slave position. I'll tell you when to begin."

Harry trotted over to the other side of the room and bent down, pressing his head to the floor.

"Go!" said Snape and Harry barely managed to dodge a spell. Off and running, avoiding wards, spells, and balls, Harry tried to approach Snape as discreetly as he could, pretending to focus on the Death Eaters instead. Soon, a ball hit his arm, and Snape restarted the lesson.

Over and over again he was hit either by Snape or a ball before he had got even within an arm's reach of Snape. After what seemed like hours, Harry tricked Snape with a feint and managed to pull the wand from his hand. When his hand closed around the wood, he was so excited, he forgot to dodge, causing a flood of balls to pound into his body at once, making him drop the wand. 

Removing his actual wand from his robes, Snape said, "Again," as if Harry had just accomplished a routine task. With a wave of his wand, he removed all the boxes. "This time, don't let anything hit you at all and keep hold of the wand."

Celebrating his victory even if Snape wouldn't, Harry tossed the wand back to him and trotted over to the other side of the room. Again and again they ran through the exercise, until Harry once again captured Snape's wand.

Turning the fake wand back on Snape as if the Potions Master were Voldemort himself, Harry said, " _Avada Kedavra_!" 

Snape flicked out his arm and a thousand balls hit Harry at once. When they fell to the floor, he said, "Don't be so obvious in your poses and _move_ while casting." He Summoned the laser pointer and threw it at Harry. "This time, after you've taken the wand, use the laser pointer to destroy me and all the Death Eaters."

"Right," said Harry, crouched and eager to begin. 

"Now!"

Harry hadn't yet got close enough to steal Snape's wand again when he jumped too high to dodge a ball and landed on his elbow, sending pain shooting up his arm. "Fuck!"

Everything in the room vanished and Snape swept to his side, a painkiller in his hand. Thrusting it into Harry's hand, he chained him to the floor, then left in a hurry. When he returned, he released Harry and said, "That'll have to be enough of that type of practice for now. We'll do something less taxing. "

Feeling more than ready - especially with his new plan - Harry agreed. "We can do more after you return."

"I don't know if I'll have time alone with you once I return. The Dark Lord might wish for you to be more closely monitored before the ceremony."

If this was to be his last training session, then so be it. It wasn't what he needed the most. Knowing that it would be difficult to talk his way out of more training (especially with the end so close), Harry crossed the room and threw his arms around Snape's shoulders. "I can't wait. When you return, we'll do the ceremony, then I'll kill him. We'll both be free of him forever." Curling his hand around the back of Snape's neck, Harry pulled him down for a kiss.

Snape returned it softly, one hand drifting up Harry's back while the other scratched through his hair.

Deepening the kiss, Harry rubbed his hardening prick against Snape, only to have Snape pull away.

"Shower first," he said, removing Harry's collar with a wave of his hand. 

Reluctantly, Harry released Snape and walked to the bathroom. "If the Order rescues me while you're away, I'll go to Hogwarts."

"Do you imagine they will try?"

"I think so," Harry told him as he turned the water to hot. "They know you're my guard, they probably know my general location, and I imagine that they'll stop at nothing to try to free me."

"That they probably will; however, I doubt they'll succeed."

When Snape failed to enter the shower, Harry poked his head around the curtain to see him washing his hands at the sink. "Are you coming?"

"I don't need a shower."

"I want to take one with you."

"I don't."

Harry pushed aside the curtain. "Why do you care if I see you naked? It's not like I've not seen you naked before. Yeah, you're fucking ugly, but I still want to see you naked."

"Your pillow talk leaves much to be desired." With that, Snape left the bathroom.

Harry hopped out of the shower and marched after him. 

Turning around, Snape sneered, "You're getting water all over the floor."

"So use a drying spell," said Harry. "Look, these are our last hours together before you leave me alone with a Death Eater for days. You say he won't abuse me, but you don't _know_. You just think that they haven't thought of ways around the rules, or that you know them well enough to predict what they're going to do. Even if he leaves me alone, I'm not going to have anyone to talk to for days. If you won't come shower, then at least come talk. Don't leave me alone longer than is necessary."

Snape's eyes never wavered from Harry's face and his sneer melted. In a soft voice, he asked, "Do you really think he'll hurt you?"

If he was worried about him, Snape would never leave. "No, it's not- I'm not worried you're wrong about him. I just don't want to be alone. I mean - I know I won't be alone, but...." He couldn't explain his way out of it. Cursing himself for being stupid, Harry shook his head and said, "Just forget I said anything." He turned, heading back to the bathroom.

Snape swept across the room and grabbed Harry's arm. "If you think for even one second-"

"I don't."

"If he does-"

"I'll bite my tongue. I'll take the potion. I won't let him near me."

"I wouldn't let him near you if I thought-"

"I'm not worried," Harry assured him. To distract Snape, he closed the distance between them and cupped Snape's groin, his other hand pulling the Potions Master tight against him. "Just fuck me hard enough to leave marks so he'll have no doubt about who owns me. Make sure he knows that I'm yours."

The distraction worked. Without another word, Snape bent down to kiss him, shifting his hips to press his prick further against Harry's hand. 

Releasing Snape's back to undo his buttons with both hands, Harry worked his way through the barriers of cloth until he had Snape's hard flesh in hand. He wasn't completely erect - not at first, but Harry slowly stroked him until wetness covered the tip and his kisses became more breathless. Snape's hands remained above Harry's shoulders - massaging his neck, curling in his hair, stroking his face. The dark eyes never wavered from his own, fixed on his face with a hunger that probably should have scared him but didn't.

Snape loved him. Snape would kill for him. Snape would die for him. 

And he would die for Snape.

Slowly, carefully, savouring each moment, Harry undressed him, letting his fingers slide through the layers and layers of cloth to the flesh hidden beneath. The thin, scarred body was somehow perfect, even in all its ugliness, and Harry delighted in the feel of running his fingertips across the damaged flesh and kissing the small, dark nipples. Snape's fingers stroked through his hair and scratched at the back of his neck, but he didn't make a sound, not even when Harry flickered his tongue over a hardening nipple.

Numerous scars transected Snape's chest and Harry petted them all, stroking across the damaged, oddly smoothed skin. He kissed their ridges and let his tongue trail across their centres. As he sank lower, his mouth exploring Snape's abdomen, his hands curled around Snape's hips for support, the fingers in his hair picked up speed and he knew from the tension now running down Snape's back that they were both eager for Harry to go lower.

Reverently, Harry pushed down the trousers and pants, and helped Snape bare himself, stripping him of every layer. Kneeling on the floor after helping him remove his socks, Harry stared up at the skinny yet proud body, at the man who'd treated him with the utmost mockery and ruthless abuse, but had also loved him in a way that no one had before. 

Harry had an army of supporters who would fight to the death for him. He'd had people die for him, and knew that there was a good chance more would before it all was over. 

Snape had only just found him and Harry would be gone soon. There was no one who could protect Snape. Was there even anyone who would try? To the Order he would be the blackest villain, and the Death Eaters would kill him without a second thought. As much as Harry knew that he needed to escape and hunt down the Horcruxes on his own, Snape would be in grave danger the moment he left. 

Rising up on his knees, Harry wrapped his hand around the hard cock and bent forward to offer Snape comfort and an apology the only way he knew how. As much as he hated doing it, he sucked him into his mouth and bobbed his head over the hard flesh, trying not to gag. There was no way to know how much Voldemort would blame Snape for Harry's escape. There was no way of knowing how safe Snape would be when the Order decided to attack. Harry could only hope for the best and try to show that, whatever happened, the last thing he wanted was for Snape to get hurt. 

Snape said not a word. When Harry's jaw began to ache and he stopped for a moment to catch his breath, Snape just bent down and pulled him to his feet for a kiss. Cloth appeared, wrapping around Harry's back, legs and arms, pulling him up into the air until he rested on a loose swing. Desperately needing contact, Harry wrapped his arms around Snape's shoulders and his legs around Snape's waist, pulling him close, and pressing their bodies tightly together. 

For a moment, he just held Snape, delighting in the feel of Snape's steady, strong heart beat against his chest. Then Snape, cupping Harry's face gently in his hands, pressed his soft lips against Harry's.

Slowly rolling his hips, Snape kissed him tenderly, his hands roaming over Harry's chest and thighs. Moaning softly as each slow glide of Snape's cock stimulated his own with delightful friction; Harry could do nothing but cling to Snape, putting everything he had to offer in his kisses.

Snape broke his kissing and petting long enough to Summon the lube and Harry took it from him. Not wanting any more time to get between them, Harry smeared it on Snape's dick, then guided him inside, using his feet to pull Snape closer and closer, as he lost himself in the pleasure of feeling Snape's heat both inside and outside his body.

Without words to get in the way, they moved together, somehow in rhythm. It was perfect. 

If only it could never end. If only they could somehow be together forever. 

Unable to say what he most wanted to, Harry tried to convey everything with his body. Snape seemed to understand, his pace somehow matched to what Harry needed. They found completion together, each holding the other tightly.

After they finished, Snape returned the bed and laid Harry across it. "Do you want marks?" he asked, his hands roaming over Harry's torso.

"Yes," said Harry straight away. He'd just been talking earlier, but now he wanted them. They'd be testaments to Snape's protection. 

Settling down beside him, Snape gently cupped Harry's neck, pushing his head back and up with his thumb. He bent his head and closed his mouth over the junction of Harry's neck and shoulder. Sucking softly, he stroked Harry's jaw, his thumb moving back and forth over the unshaven skin as if to map it. 

Basking in the attention, Harry let his fingers drift through Snape's soft hair, teasing the strands as he caressed him. 

Snape marked his neck, the skin above his right nipple, his inner left thigh, then picked up his right arm. Turning it palm up, he raised it to his mouth and, with his eyes on Harry's, sucked a dark purple mark on the surface right below his cuff. 

"It's perfect," said Harry once Snape finished. He'd have to hide the marks when he escaped - if they lasted that long with the capsule leaking healing potions into his skin. 

"I'm not finished yet," said Snape with a wicked grin. Pushing Harry's legs up and apart, he settled between them and rubbed his nose in the bit of curly hair that remained. 

"Not on my-" gasped Harry, but Snape closed his mouth around Harry's flaccid cock and sucked hard. Releasing the prick after too short a time, he teased the balls, then lifted his head. 

"Do you want more?"

Harry wasn't sure what 'more' referred to, but he knew he'd love it no matter what it was. "Yes!"

Snape flipped him onto his stomach and, grabbing his arse, pulled it up, spread the cheeks with his thumbs, and buried his face in the crack.

Oh fuck!

Harry could do nothing but grab the sheets and try not to melt into a puddle as Snape's amazing tongue flickered over his pucker, turning his knees to mush. How could something so gross to think about be so mind-blowingly fantastic? 

He held out as long as he could, trying not to touch himself, but he couldn't last, not with Snape's tongue doing such wickedly wonderful things. 

Propping himself up with one hand, he reached down his other to stroke himself. Snape released Harry's arse and pressed his cock up against Harry's arsehole, pushing through the tight rim with one forceful stroke. 

Fuck! The sudden feel of his hole being stretched and the hot, heavy cock spearing him made Harry gasp, his fingers tightening around his own cock. It felt so bloody brilliant.

His hips snapping hard, Snape grabbed Harry's wrists, pulling his arms behind his back and holding him suspended above the bed. He fucked him hard as he held him in place, his cock slamming deep with each pounding stroke.

For a moment, the feel of that fat prick hammering into him was enough, but then he realised that this might be one of the last times they would have sex before the ceremony. Maybe even among the last times they had sex before he died. It was not what he wanted to think about and, determined to have his brains fucked out so that there'd be nothing to focus his mind on but the exquisite feel of Snape's cock taking him, he demanded, "More."

Releasing his wrists, Snape grabbed his hips, and somehow doubled his already insane pace. Bracing himself against the bed, Harry thrust back to meet him, trying to ride the thick cock as fast and as hard as he could. The pace was enough to leave him breathless, the pounding so hard, he couldn't think. 

Snape shifted slightly and suddenly there were stars behind his eyes, his whole world nothing but pleasure. He screamed as he came all over the sheets, ecstasy rushing through him like a volcanic eruption. When his senses cleared, he was lying flat on his stomach, Snape kissing down his sweaty back. 

"Bloody hell," breathed Harry.

Snape chuckled and carefully pulled out his softening cock. 

"Tea?" he offered as he cast the cleaning spells, then scooted to the edge of the bed.

"Please." Harry rolled over and stretched out on the bed. 

Along with the tea, biscuits and sandwiches appeared on the bedside table. Harry hadn't been feeling hungry, but seeing them there made his mouth water and he shot to his hands and knees. 

"Off the bed," said Snape as he stood, his clothes flying to him and around him.

Harry hopped off the bed, stealing a sandwich off the table as he left it.

Snape transfigured half of the bed into a table with two plush chairs. Dropping into the one nearest him, Harry watched the food and drinks float over his head and settle neatly on the tabletop. 

Snape poured the tea, preparing both of their cups. 

"Thanks," said Harry when Snape pushed his cup across the table. "How are you going to get to Hogwarts without him knowing what you're doing?"

"I'll tell you once I've destroyed the Diadem."

Determined to get at least some answers, Harry asked, "Are you going to go to Hogwarts first?"

Snape just raised an eyebrow at him.

Setting down his sandwich, Harry asked, "You don't trust me? After all this time? After everything-"

"I'm not concerned about you _intentionally_ telling anyone anything," said Snape. 

Gutted, Harry could only say, "You think my Occlumency is weak. You think I can't lie under Veritaserum."

"I think that if the Dark Lord wants something from you he will take it."

"But you told me that you're going to Hogwarts to get the Diadem. You're acting all secretive which means you are going to go and steal it. If he goes in my mind, he'll know that. That will be enough to get you killed by him as it is!"

"If he suspects I've turned against him, the less he has to take from you, the better."

"I can defend against him. I've-"

"No," said Snape quietly. "You can't."

Harry opened his mouth to argue when Snape said, "Would you like me to demonstrate?"

"Yeah," challenged Harry, throwing up his mental walls. "Try to take the Diadem information from me."

Snape lifted his wand and Harry tensed, ready to throw off any spells. A swish of his wand chained Harry to the table and he stood and left the room.

Sitting still, trying to focus his mind, Harry waited for his return.

After what was probably a minute but seemed like an hour, Snape stepped into the room in a dramatic cloud of black, carrying a bottle in his hand. "Drink this," he said.

Harry clamped his mouth shut and stood, getting as far away from Snape as the chain allowed him. Reaching into his robes for his wand, Snape flicked it several times, and the chair raced towards Harry's knees just as an invisible solid force pushed him over the seat. Chains appeared, binding his wrists to the front of the chair as magical bands wrapped around his knees and ankles, holding him in place, bent over the seat. Struggling hard, Harry attempted to stand, but he couldn't move.

Snape marched over to the chair and grabbed one of Harry's arse cheeks, giving it a squeeze. "There are many ways to give you a potion." Without any of the gentleness that had characterised their earlier sex, he pushed apart Harry's arse cheeks and shoved the tip of the cold, hard bottle inside.

"Don't!" Harry tried to buck away, but he was pinned too securely in place, helpless to do anything against the wet, warm potion being poured inside of him. He tried to ward his mind as his vision fogged and a feeling of weightlessness stole over him. When Snape released the bindings, Harry pushed himself to his feet, but his head felt cloudy and each step was wobbly.

" _Imperio_!"

He'd thrown it off countless times before, but he couldn't shake it off this time, not when he couldn't concentrate enough to walk straight.

"Come to me," said Snape.

Harry's legs moved, even as he tried to get them to stop, even as they shook and jerked as they moved. They took him straight to Snape, unsteady but obedient.

"Kneel."

No! Stop it! He couldn't control himself. He sank to his knees before the dark swimming cloud of black that was Snape.

"Kiss my boot."

_Don't move_! He threw everything he had into his mind. _STOP_! It didn't work. He bent forward, pressing his lips to the leather.

"Get up and lie on the bed on your back with your legs spread."

STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT! His body moved of its own accord, taking him to the bed and arranging itself just as Snape had ordered.

"Orgasm."

He somehow came, even though he wasn't hard, even though he hadn't touched himself at all. He'd had enough. Snape had proved himself correct. He didn't care anymore, he wanted control back. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but he couldn't force his jaw to move.

"Have you ever wet the bed?" asked Snape and Harry heard himself say, "Yes, I did it a couple of times and Petunia made me wash the sheets."

NO! Snape would learn about his escape plans! He needed to escape. He didn't care that he wasn't supposed to use his magic, he had to get rid of this potion.

Snape leveled his wand at Harry's chest and Harry's heart slammed to a stop. With the potion and the Imperius Curse, Snape could make him do almost _anything_. An Obliviation spell later and he'd be none the wiser. Snape could do anything to him. No, it wasn't possible. He would have that subconscious reaction to any betrayal by Snape.

Expect that it was Snape who'd told him that he'd have a subconscious reaction even if he didn't remember himself. Snape could've lied. Snape could've done anything to him and he'd never, ever know without those memories.

Gods, he was _fucked_. Even if he had his magic, Snape was too damned powerful, too clever, and too strong for him to defend against. 

Snape said, " _Finite Incantatem_ ," and the Imperius Curse left him. He was still under the potion, but he could move of his own accord. 

Returning his wand to his robes, Snape removed a bottle. "Drink this." 

No more potions. Snape was right. He was helpless. He couldn't defend himself. But could anyone save him? Even Tom might not be able to stop Snape from taking complete control. If Snape did intend to enslave him, he was completely and utterly fucked. Cold all over, his limbs shaking, Harry summoned all his strength to roll over onto his stomach and pull himself across the bed away from where Snape stood.

Behind him Snape said, "This will clear all trace of the potion from your system," but Harry kept crawling away. He just wanted to curl up into a ball and wait until everything had passed and he could think clearly again. 

"Harry," said Snape gently, touching Harry's right foot with a warm hand. "Drink this. It will help you."

Snape loved him. Snape loved a challenge. He wouldn't want Harry helpless to stop him from doing whatever he wanted. He couldn't. 

It took Harry all of his willpower and strength to roll back over and put out a hand to take the bottle from Snape. 

Intense dark eyes met his own, but they weren't filled with anything but concern. Harry accepted the bottle Snape pressed into his hand and took a swig from it, letting the sweet potion flow down his throat.

"Drink all of it," said Snape, taking a seat at the table again. "You'll feel better shortly."

Harry lay on the bed, sipping the potion and willing his heart to calm. With each swig, the fog over his head faded away more and more and, by the time he finished the bottle, he could think as clearly as before. He sat up to find Snape drinking his tea as if nothing had happened. 

Tossing the empty bottle to the floor, Harry scooted to the edge of the bed and took his seat at the table. Avoiding Snape's eyes, he sipped his tea. 

When his heart was no longer hanging in his throat, he put down his cup, met Snape's eyes and said quietly but firmly, "Don't ever do that to me again."

Snape arched an eyebrow at him. "You wanted-"

"I know. I know I challenged you, but just- Just promise me that you'll never do that to me again." He knew that it was pointless to make Snape promise - his promises might mean nothing to him, but he still needed to hear it. 

"I should hope I'll never need to," said Snape over his teacup. 

" _Need_ to?" asked Harry, horrified that Snape would consider it a possibility.

Snape gave a short nod. "Right now, it is impossible to say if it should ever become a necessity."

"Never!" Harry nearly yelled. "It will never be a necessity! You _never_ have _any_ right to take away my self-control!"

Calmly, Snape set down his cup. "And if I should suspect the Dark Lord has taken control of you?"

Harry had no answer to give him. Tom saw everything he did, so he couldn't even offer Snape a password, couldn't begin to offer a suggestion on how Snape could untangle what was him and what was Tom pretending to be him. He doubted Tom could play him for long - they were too different - but Tom could certainly muck up all of their plans. He'd seen Harry's entire life. There was no one who could play him better. 

There was nothing Harry could do. Other than to trust that Snape knew him well enough to know when he was no longer himself. But did Snape? Snape seemed to know him better than most people, but he could still hide things. If Voldemort or Tom did take control of him, Snape would be most at risk. 

Lost in the horror of thinking of what Voldemort or Tom would do with control of his body, Harry forgot the tea and Snape until Snape said, "I won't let him have you."

"But how would you _know_?"

"I'd know. He's nothing like you. He couldn't be you - even if he tried his hardest. I'll show you." Snape stood, chaining Harry in place with a flick of his wand. He disappeared into his cupboard, and returned with the Snitch. Placing it in the centre of the table, he said, "Do you remember how you caught it?"

How could he ever forget that? "Of course!" Picking up the Snitch, Harry turned it over in his hands. "My first Quidditch game. I fell off the broom and caught it in my mouth. But that doesn't prove a thing. If he possesses me, he could steal my memories."

"He could steal your memories, but he can't steal what makes you _you_. The parts of you that he could try to imitate, but never fully understand. Parts such as your love for that game. Do you remember that broom of yours that was destroyed your third year?"

"My Nimbus 2000," said Harry fondly. "I was so upset when the Whomping Willow destroyed it. Thankfully, Sirius sent me my Firebolt. If only I still had it. I'd love to have a go on it now!"

"There are probably better models out now," said Snape dismissively.

It was Harry's turn to look scornful. "Better than the Firebolt? Do you have any idea-"

Snape held up a hand. "No, nor do I care to waste my time learning about brooms."

Harry smiled to himself as he played with the Snitch. "You'll never know when it'll come in handy." 

Motioning to the Snitch, Snape said, "Activate it."

Harry pressed the Snitch against his lips. " _I open at the close_ ," he read once the letters became visible.

"I know what it means," said Snape. "The Snitch will open before you face the Dark Lord for the last time. I've told the others that special preparations need to be made before the ceremony can be undertaken. You are to fast for twelve hours and bathe before the ceremony begins. You should be left alone in your cell during those twelve hours, which is when you will open the Snitch and remove the Resurrection Stone. Hide it in your body, either orally or rectally. Do not allow the Dark Lord to take possession of it."

Harry turned the Snitch over in his hands. "Why open it in the first place? Isn't it best to leave it hidden?"

"No, he may realise the Snitch's potential. He might plunder your mind to determine what you know about the Horcruxes and it is best to keep him from taking the Stone."

"You know, even if I do manage to swallow it, he can just cut open my stomach."

"Not if he wishes to complete the ceremony in a timely fashion. It's best for him to wait until after the ceremony to take the Stone."

Although the timing was perfect with his plan to escape, Harry had to ask, "Why are you giving it to me now? Won't we have a bit of time between your return and the beginning of the ceremony?"

"We'll have a short while, but I'm certain the Dark Lord will want us both watched as much as possible once the ceremony draws near." Leaning forward, Snape held out his palm. "Give it back to me for now."

Harry placed it back in Snape's hand.

Snape just sat there, his palm open and the Snitch exposed like an offering. "You don't want to keep it?" asked Snape.

Not understanding this sudden change, Harry frowned. "It _is_ mine. Dumbledore gave it to me, after all, and he wouldn't have given it to me unless he thought I would need it. I can't have it on me though. How would I explain it? I know you'll give it to me later."

Snape's eyes never left Harry's face. "And its contents?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do with them. Do you think- Dumbledore doesn't want me to bring any one back from the dead, does he?"

"You've no desire to become the Master of Death?"

"You need all three Hallows for that," Harry pointed out. "The Cloak, the Stone _and_ the Wand." 

His black eyes glittering, Snape calmly said, "The Cloak is yours by birthright. You possess the Stone. To control the Wand, you need only take it from me."

Why tell him that? Was that what they'd been doing? Had Snape transferred control of the Elder Wand to Harry? Was it a challenge, was Harry supposed to try to steal control? Harry stared at Snape, unsure how to respond. 

Snape just looked at him, as evenly as if they'd just been discussing what to have for breakfast.

Finally, Harry said, "Didn't you say that the reason you could take control of the Elder Wand was because Draco had control?"

Slowly, Snape nodded.

Empowered, Harry continued, "And you said that if someone had disarmed Draco after that encounter, then Draco would've lost control of the Elder Wand. That means a person doesn't even need to steal a wand to take control. A person might even be able to take control through another means."

"No," said Snape, setting the Snitch down and selecting a sandwich off one of the plates. "It must be another wand. A replica won't do."

Oh. Then Snape hadn't transferred control of the Elder Wand to him. 

"To take control of the Elder Wand," said Snape, "you must disarm the current owner - either through physically or magically stealing the owner's wand."

Why bring it up again? The training! Harry nearly shot upright. Snape was training Harry to steal wands from _him_. Maybe Snape knew the location of the Elder Wand and was going to steal it, with the expectation that Harry take control of it sometime during the final battle. It was so bloody brilliant, for a moment, Harry just sat there, mulling it over in his head. 

Harry watched Snape closely, wanting to confirm it, but he dared not say anything, not as long as he had Tom lurking, able to see everything he saw. Was that the real reason why Snape was reluctant to share all his plans with Harry? If he knew about the Horcrux, it was possible that he knew how powerful Tom had become.

No, not possible. A certainty. He'd been sealing Tom up, trying to keep him from talking to Harry. Maybe he'd also been trying to keep him from Harry's mind. Oh, if only he knew enough literature to somehow communicate with Snape without Tom figuring out the conversation! Tom would dismiss Muggle literature as rubbish and they could talk in private, just as they had done with _Billy Budd_.

For the first time in his life, Harry wished he'd read more of those long, boring books.

Now, there was nothing he could say. He'd just have to communicate with his body. Snape seemed to agree and, after they'd both had their fill, they returned to the bed for more love-making. Whether hard or soft, it was always face-to-face, Harry kissing and stroking every single part of Snape he could reach. 

He didn't want to sleep. He wanted to spend the entire night with Snape. Unfortunately, each orgasm left him more and more tired and - after fighting it for hours - he decided to give in. He needed to be in top form for his escape the next day anyway. 

Curled up against Snape's side, Harry drifted off to sleep.


	61. Chapter 61

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

Harry woke to the smell of tea. Feeling far too lazy to get out of bed just yet, he snuggled deeper into the soft covers, stretching out his hand to touch-

An empty bed?

Sitting upright, blinking, Harry glanced around the room until he found Snape sitting in a chair, a book opened over a knee, a cup of tea in his hand. Did the man _ever_ sleep? 

Yawning, Harry stretched and asked, "What d'you want for breakfast?"

"I'll be leaving before breakfast," said Snape. "You'll take it in your cell."

"Oh." Even with the excitement of his escape plan, part of him didn't want Snape to leave. Still, it had to be this way. It wasn't like they could run off together, and Snape had made it very clear that he didn't approve of any escape plan.

Snape closed the book and stood. "Come, you should take a shower. I don't want him to give you any, which means this will be the last one before I return."

It would be the last one before the final battle. Harry slid out of bed and padded to the bathroom while Snape followed.

As Harry stepped into the shower, Snape asked, "What does each oval contain?"

Harry answered dutifully.

"When do you open the Snitch?"

"During the twelve hour period before the ceremony when I'll be left alone."

Satisfied with the answers, Snape said, "I'll slip you a few more books before I leave. I know reading isn't your favourite hobby-"

Harry shrugged. "It's just three days." He paused, the soap over his chest. "You'll be careful, right? If Avery figured out-"

"I'm always very careful."

Harry arched an eyebrow at him. "And the Dark Lord never changes his mind?"

Snape snorted. "I've never been foolish enough to assume that." 

There was nothing more he could say to Snape to protect him other than to warn him, and Harry refused to do that. 

When he stepped out of the shower, Snape was waiting by the sink. After creating the collar and leash, Snape said, "I won't be gone long. The days will pass faster than you'll realise."

Especially with Harry out, taking care of all the loose ends. "I have ways of entertaining myself," Harry said with a cheeky grin.

Narrowing his eyes slightly, Snape clasped Harry's right shoulder. "Behave. I don't-"

Scoffing, Harry pulled away, and moved to the door. "I'm not a child. I know how to handle Death Eaters. Besides, if he's just as nerdy as you, he'll spend most of his time in the lab."

"Still," said Snape, following behind. "You have ways of finding trouble."

"You've got it backwards." Harry dropped to his knees. In a teasing tone, he added, "I've always been perfectly behaved."

Sighing, Snape opened the door, and led him down to the cellar. As they passed through the library, he Summoned books, sending them to rest under the mattress. When he finished, Harry climbed onto the mattress, watching as Snape tapped the table with his wand, making breakfast appear. 

Having no idea where Enitan had slept, Harry remained quiet, keeping his eyes on Snape's chest rather than his face. 

Once the toiletries had been examined and replenished, Snape returned to the side of the bed. After slipping Harry the Snitch, he said, "Be good," before he swept past the bars and strode away without a backwards glance. 

~

As expected, Enitan brought Harry lunch rather than pulling him out of his cell to make it. When he arrived, the lunch tray floating behind him, Harry was ready and waiting. Kneeling on the floor with his knees spread to reveal his full erection, he bent to the floor as soon as the door opened, then sat back up, showing himself off to the Death Eater.

Enitan nearly tripped over his feet when he saw Harry. Grinning on the inside, Harry said in his most polite, submissive voice, "May I wank you, Master?"

A pregnant pause hung heavily in the room before Enitan entered the cell, the bars parting before him.

"On the bed," he said, his voice low.

_Yes_! Turning around, Harry crawled across the floor in what he hoped was a seductive manner. Climbing onto the bed, he left room near the headboard for Enitan to sit.

Enitan approached, but rather than climb on the bed, he stopped near the edge. "Come here."

It wasn't what he had planned, but the _Felix Felicis_ he'd taken earlier told him not to panic. Scooting to the edge of the bed, Harry dropped his legs over the side. Enitan knelt, pushing Harry's legs farther apart. He was going to give Harry head! It was perfect. He watched with a pounding heart as Enitan settled himself between his knees and reached a hand around his waist to tug him forward. Obediently, Harry slid closer to the edge of the bed. As soon as Enitan touched his penis, Harry punched him in the face.

Enitan fell backwards, knocking his head against the floor, and passed out. 

Harry surged forward, grabbed him under the arms, and hauled him onto the bed. Driven forward by the potion, he stripped Enitan of his outer robes, leaving him dressed in a thin, dark red robe. He patted him down, twice, and found two invisible magical pockets filled with potions. Once he was confident that he'd uncovered every hidden object on the Death Eater, Harry pulled out the strips of cloth he'd prepared earlier and tied the man to the bed. He used the rings in the mouths of the dragons on his bedposts to hold the cloths in place as he stretched out Enitan's arms and tied them horizontally. He made sure to not only tie Enitan's hands, but also to point one towards him. He didn't know enough about wandless magic to know if it could be directed through the arms, but he figured it was better to be cautious. 

While Harry waited for Enitan to wake, he rifled through the pockets of the robes he'd taken. Out came a knife that hummed with magic, a scroll of parchment with some sort of coded writing on it, an unopenable purse stuffed full of what sounded like gold coins, and more potions. Harry had just donned the robe, slipped the Snitch in a pocket, and replaced all the items, when Enitan's eyes opened.

Enitan cursed in a language Harry had never heard before.

"Cast _Sectumsempra_ ," ordered Harry. It was the only Dark Spell he trusted to remove his cuffs without removing his wrist as well. Even if he did lose a hand, Snape would know how to fix it. 

Enitan just cursed, pulling on his bonds.

Harry yanked on the end of the cloth rope tied around Enitan's neck, pulling tight. The Death Eater's eyes bulged as he gasped for breath, his legs kicking as far as the cloths would allow. 

Relaxing the rope, Harry repeated, " _Sectumsempra_ , cast it now."

A wandless, wordless spell raced towards Harry who, not knowing what spell it was, dodged out of the way. Harry tightened his grip on the end of the rope. He let the man turn a dark purple before he released him. "Try that again, and I'll cut off a finger." Grabbing the knife, Harry pulled it out of the scabbard. It glowed a dark red, the blade filled with Dark Magic. 

Enitan eyed it nervously, but said, "I'll never free you."

"You will cast _Sectumsempra_ ," Harry informed him, "If you insist on refusing, I'll torture you until you will."

Enitan sneered at him, "He'll torture me worse than you ever could, whore."

Harry laughed. "Not bright are you? You'll tell him what he wants to hear. The ceremony won't work. I've sabotaged the potion." 

"Severus-"

"Is so sure of himself. The Dark Lord will take care of him for me." Lifting the knife, Harry said, "I've been in this prison for three months. You can't begin to imagine what was done to me. I think I know a thing or two about torture. Severus wants to castrate me." He gave a crooked smile. "Shall I demonstrate?"

Harry lunged and Enitan yelped, moving as far away from Harry as he could. 

"Do- Don't!" he gasped. He started casting another wandless, wordless spell and Harry pulled hard on the blanket, cutting off his air until his entire body shook. Before releasing him, Harry punched him in the balls.

Even though Enitan's air was cut off, he still howled, his cry of pain turning into a string of curses.

In a dark voice, Harry told him, "I warned you. I know I said I'd only cut off a finger, but I've changed my mind." Climbing on the bed, he stabbed the knife between Enitan's thighs and slowly dragged it up. The Dark Magic seeped into the blade poured out as Harry cut, decomposing the fabric as it sliced through it.

In a panicked, high-pitched voice, Enitan cried, "I'll do it! _Sectumsempra!_ "

Tossing the knife to the side, Harry had to dodge to catch it square on his left cuff. He'd imagined a million times what it would be like to feel his magic surging through him again - to be a normal wizard once more. The cuffs simply vanished and cool air touched skin that had been covered for months. 

Yanking Enitan's wand from his pocket with one hand, Harry pulled the pills out of his mouth with the other. He slid the three-day sleeping potion off the chain. "Take this pill," he told Enitan, "You don't want to be awake when he first finds out I'm gone."

The Death Eater just cursed at him. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to easily get him to ingest the potion, Harry cast _Immobulus_ , cut open the man's abdomen, and poured the contents in. Enitan's eyes slid shut and his body went limp.

Harry burst through the open bars and darted to the laundry room. _Ruptum_ had him through the wooden door, and in a room with a washer and dryer, rows of clothing and sheets on shelves, various boxes, and a door heavily guarded in wards.

Casting every single Dark Magic spell he knew, Harry destroyed the wards and the wall, crashing through the mess of stone into the open air.

FREE!

HE WAS OUTSIDE! HE WAS FREE!

He ran.

Cracks of Apparition behind him alerted him to the presence of others, but he ignored them, pounding hard towards the woods. 

They were yelling, spells were racing towards his back, but he was almost to the woods.

Almost there.

Almost.

Just a bit more.

Voldemort.

Harry's scar seemed to burst open and the pain of it nearly made him stumble. Although he couldn't see, he could still run straight ahead, sprinting towards the direction of the woods. Voldemort came closer and closer, but Harry wasn't far enough, he hadn't felt the second set of wards that he needed to pass through before he could Apparate. 

THERE!

He could feel them! Just a bit more!

"HARRY!"

Neville.

The wards, if he was passing through him, put up no resistance and when he didn't feel their presence, he figured they had to be beyond the bounds of Apparition. Spells shot thickly by them and more cracks filled the air. Harry grabbed Neville, threw up mental wards, and Apparated away to the first place he could think of. 

They ended up on the island where Vernon had taken Harry to try to escape the owls. A sharp pain burst from his leg as if he'd chopped it in half. He'd splinched himself. He didn't dare try to Apparate again - not while he was in so much pain. His head no longer ached, but he couldn't tell if that was due to successful Occluding or if the pain in his leg was overriding the pain in his head.

"Neville! We're near Cokeworth! Take us somewhere, fast!"

Neville stared at Harry as if he'd sprouted eyes all over his body. "That's impossible!"

"Hurry! They can trace Apparition! Take us somewhere!"

Neville jerked into motion, grabbed Harry's arms, and Apparated him away to a forest. When they landed, Harry had to take a step to steady himself and that simple movement sent pain roaring up his leg. 

"Another place," he gasped out. "Somewhere they'd never look."

Neville's arms tightened around Harry's chest and they Apparated away again, landing in the middle of a cow field. The heifer three armspans away stared at them with big black eyes while the rest of the cows looked up from the grass.

Neville's grip loosened and Harry's legs gave way, making him tumble to the grass. Pulling the potions from his mouth, he screwed open the lid of the healing potion, and poured the liquid over his leg, over the white of the bone he could see.

"Harry," said Neville. "Merlin, Harry. Is that really you?"

"Yeah." Harry slumped over, trying to catch his breath and ignore the hurt of his leg. 

Neville pulled out his wand and Harry gripped his, expecting an attack, but Neville just cast his Patronus and said, "Cast yours."

Harry flourished the stolen wand, and a silver stag erupted from the tip. 

Neville looked at Harry through narrowed eyes. "What did Malfoy nick from me your first year?"

"Your Rememberall. I caught it. That's how I got on the Quidditch Team. Where did I run into you during Christmas holidays fifth year?"

"St Mungo's. What did I lose on the train in my first year?"

"Trevor; Hermione helped you find him."

The flesh started to grow back on Harry's leg and he poured more potion on. "Name three Gryffindor common room passwords."

Neville groaned. "I can't remember that! That's why I wrote them down! How did we communicate with the other DA members?"

"Charmed Galleons," answered Harry. "You hate Professor Snape. You love Herbology. You're a better dancer than me. You supported me when few people would. You took Ginny to the Yule Ball."

"Merlin," swore Neville. "I can't believe it! How-?"

He had no time for questions. He had to get to Hogwarts. Now that the pain in his leg had receded, he knew from the lack of pain in his head that he'd managed to successfully Occlude against Voldemort. "I need to see Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Where are they?"

"They're probably back at Headquarters." Frowning, Neville scratched his head. "I can't take you anywhere near it because of the privacy wards. I'll take you to a hideout."

"Wait." Harry stripped naked, dropping the robe on the ground. 

Neville's face flamed red and he turned away.

"I don't want them to have any means of tracing me," explained Harry as he gripped the Snitch and threw away the wand. 

"They can't trace wands," Neville informed him. "Take it." He shrugged out of his outer robe and held it out to Harry, not looking at him. "Take this too."

"Thanks." As soon as Harry had grabbed the wand and closed the robe, they Apparated. The safe house was nothing more than a groove of trees in a forest.

"Loads of wards," said Harry, feeling the magic in the air. 

Neville nodded. "Invisibility Charms as well. The whole works. _Expecto Patronum_!" When his Patronus burst from his wand, Neville said, "I have Harry, send a Dimension Door. Flobberworm." The Patronus raced off, disappearing into the trees. 

"Dimension Door?"

"Portkey," explained Neville. "We use code words for everything now. It makes it easier to tell who's who. They've been Polyjuicing into everyone. Even you. You wouldn't believe some of the things they made your doubles say and do."

"I can imagine," said Harry, not wanting to think about it.

A crack rang through the air and Luna appeared. She smiled at Harry. "Walking around barefoot is quite nice, isn't it?"

Harry glanced down at his feet. "Yeah. _Expecto Patronum_!" 

" _Expecto Patronum_!" Her rabbit danced around his stag.

"Here," she said, holding out a huge spatula. "I'm glad we found you, Harry. These woods are full of cariblancas." 

Harry and Neville grabbed onto the handle. As soon as they touched it, they were pulled into a building. Harry stumbled backwards, trying to catch his feet, when someone pounced on him. Instinctively he tensed, ready to fight off the intruder, but bushy brown hair filled his field of vision and he knew who was squeezing him half to death.

"Hermione!" He wrapped his arms around her, matching her fierce hug. He'd known that girl they killed wasn't her. He'd always trusted Snape on that score. Still, hearing that she was still alive and having the proof in his arms were two entirely different things. He never wanted to let her go.

"Oh-!" She tried to speak, but burst into tears instead.

"Harry!" Ron's voice made Harry open his eyes to see the amazing sight of his other best friend running towards him. He threw out an arm to hug him and Ron hugged both him and Hermione, enclosing them in a tight circle. 

There were others in the room, voices swirling around him and bodies pressing in on all sides, but for a moment, Harry could do nothing but just hug his two best friends. Finally, Ron and Hermione released him, and he shook hands and accepted hugs and congratulations from Dean, Percy, Arthur, and Tonks. 

Even with the joy of seeing his two best friends, Harry had to ask, "Where's Ginny?" once the crowd settled down and most of the others had left to go spread the news.

"At Hogwarts," said Ron. "I'm so sorry mate, we just can't find that Diadem. We-"

"It's in the Chamber of Secrets," Harry told them.

They nodded. 

"That's what we figured," said Hermione. "They've got patrols in the corridors and its nearly impossible to search for it. Dean's going now to send a message to the Hogwarts group."

"How many of you are there?"

Hermione looked pained. "I know low numbers are probably best, but Ron and I just couldn't do it on our own. We've-" 

Harry interrupted her with a squeeze of the hand. "I don't blame you. I didn't expect the two of you to go at it alone. You've told everyone about the Diadem?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "And Nagini and the other possible Horcruxes. Bill and Fleur left England to tell others sympathetic to our fight. We've all been very discreet, of course, and we've warned everybody to not try anything unless we-" Her voice faltered. "Unless we knew we could no longer count on you.... Oh, Harry! I'm so sorry! We were so close! So close to just giving up on you! We-" Her tears fell again and he moved to hug her which just made her cry harder for some reason. He glanced at Ron who gave him a shrug as if to say, "Beats me."

To distract her, Harry said, "Tell me how you got the Cup out of Gringotts. I'm dying to know."

Rather than calm her, this made her pull away and she stared at him with a frown. Ron frowned too and asked, "You don't remember?"

"How could I?" asked Harry. "I was in prison."

Their frowns deepened and Hermione edged farther back. "Not then. You were captured later."

"That's impossible. The Malfoys grabbed me. I've got missing memories, but I don't think I lost _that_ much."

"You escaped the Malfoys," said Ron. "That was three months ago."

"And I was in prison for three months," Harry reminded them.

"No," said Hermione, shaking her head slowly. "Only a month."

Feeling as though he'd stepped into another dimension, Harry said, "You stole the Cup, uh, about two months ago?"

They nodded.

"Yeah, the Dark Lord punished me for it. I nearly died. I was in prison then."

"That's impossible," said Ron. "You helped us get that Cup. You gave us Lestrange's wand. You-"

"I was there?" asked Harry, confused. Why would Snape have lied to him about the passage of time? It didn't feel like one month. 

"No, you-" began Ron, but Hermione interrupted with, "Let him speak. Harry, what is the last memory you have from the time before you were imprisoned?"

"I don't remember the capture exactly, just bits and pieces. Apparently they tortured me so badly, my mind walled up the memories."

Wincing, Hermione pressed her lips thin, but didn't say anything.

"There were some other memories that weren't blocked, but I couldn't think of them for some reason. Like the Deathly Hallows. I forgot about them for a while. I was with you up until the beginning of last month?" 

Hermione shook her head. "No, we last saw you at Malfoy Manor. You Summoned Dobby and he Apparated us away. You were last to go, but Malfoy grabbed you just as you were about to leave. You released Dobby. I'm sorry, Harry, Dobby didn't make it. He was killed by Bellatrix when he Apparated." 

Dobby was dead? Why couldn't he remember this? It had to be trapped in the walled up section of his mind. No wonder Tom was so eager to see what lay behind it. 

"We were going to go back to get you," continued Hermione. "But we needed to plan an attack first, especially because we no longer had Dobby. Then Kreacher showed up. You sent him to tell us that you'd escaped, but that you wanted us to stay away from you for a while because You-Know-Who knew about the Horcrux search. You set up our means of communication. You gave us the glass shard so we could speak to Aberforth, Headmaster Dumbledore's brother. He helps us sneak into Hogwarts and passes on information. You also nicked one of Dumbledore's portraits from the Ministry and talked to it whenever you needed to talk to us. He'd go to his Hogwarts frame and tell Phineas Black who told us. We'd tell Black whatever we needed to tell you and he'd pass it on."

"Portraits!" cried Harry. "I knew it! He wouldn't tell me, but I know that's how he did it."

"Who did what?" asked Ron.

"Snape!" Harry practically shouted. "You were talking to him, not to me! He said he wasn't, but I knew he was lying, he-"

"It wasn't Snape," said Hermione. "It couldn't have been. Not on his own anyway. He can't summon Kreacher."

"He could Polyjuice into-"

"No. House-elves won't show up if you Polyjuice into their owners. Believe me, we tried that. Kreacher also confirmed it when we asked him. Call him and ask him yourself. We haven't seen him since you've been imprisoned this last month."

"Kreacher!" The house-elf did not appear. Harry felt a stab in his gut. Kreacher had died on his behalf. If he had known the house-elves were in such danger, he would've sent them away to safety.

Hermione must have seen the look on his face, for she slid forward and gently touched his arm. "Maybe you told him not to come to you anymore in order to protect him. Don't give up on him until we search Grimmauld Place and Hogwarts."

How had he survived so long without her? "You're right. When- How did I get captured?"

"We don't know exactly," said Ron. "You helped us plan the Gringotts break-out, you told us to go to Hogwarts to search for the Diadem and to spread the word about the Horcruxes in case you couldn't destroy them yourself. You wanted us to stay hidden after the Cup incident, but we couldn't do that."

"Especially not after we met up with the other Dumbledore's Army members. You've got hundreds of supporters. Say the word and we'll fight."

"We're not going to fight," Harry told them. "Not yet. Snape and I, we've-"

Hermione and Ron exchanged glances. 

"What?" asked Harry.

"Is it true that he was your primary guardian?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah," answered Harry. "Three whole months locked in a house with that git. Can you imagine? But he's on our side. He's-"

"Harry," interrupted Hermione. "Have you ever heard of Stockholm Syndrome?"

"Uh- no."

In her best school-teacher tone, Hermione lectured, "When a person is held captive by another, it is common for the prisoner to feel empathy for his captor. You could switch allegiances, even fall in love. Sometimes rescued people have escaped back to their captors."

Harry's heart pounded in his chest. Hermione knew more than anybody else on certain subjects and he had no doubt she'd researched the condition thoroughly. How could he explain what had happened between him and Snape without sounding mental? He doubted it was this Stockholm Syndrome though. Snape wasn't his captor - Voldemort was. 

"It isn't like that," he assured them. "He was a prisoner just as much as I. He-"

"You used to hate him before," Ron pointed out. "There's pictures of you-" He stopped, glancing at Hermione.

Oh god. "Pictures of me what?" Harry had to ask, his heart dropping to the floor. As much as he didn't want to know, he needed to know.

Ron looked as though he was going to be sick. He spit out, "Pictures of you sitting at his feet, looking up at him like you're a pet dog and he's your owner!"

Harry nearly laughed with relief to know that's all they had seen. "They do have Polyjuice, you know. It was probably some other bloke pretending to be me. Listen, I know he was a complete bastard to me before, but he's changed-"

"He's a murderer!" exclaimed Ron.

"I know," answered Harry calmly. "He told me about some of the ones he's killed."

"Did he tell you about Mundungus?"

"No. What about him?"

Ron said, "He murdered him."

"What?" Harry glanced between their grim faces. "Why?"

"Because he was a member of the Order, that's why," said Ron. "Snape fought against several of us. He just sought some of us out and attacked us! He nearly killed my brother! Kingsley managed to get him in the back and he slithered away."

"He told me about the fight," Harry told them, trying to explain what he couldn't explain. "Not about Mundungus. Maybe he didn't know he killed him."

"He knew!" Hermione said, her eyes tight. "He killed him with that horrible spell of his and took his wand as a trophy. He was gloating."

Harry ran his hand through his hair, his thoughts jumbled up. Snape had lied. Snape had said that he hadn't killed anyone. Still, he couldn't tell them why Snape had been so determined to return to him. Why Snape had needed to remain his guard. It wasn't right though. He'd rather have been raped by Avery than have Mundungus die for him. "I don't agree with what he did, but I know he thought it was necessary, other-"

"Necessary?" asked Hermione, her eyes dangerous. "How is murder a necessity?"

Harry's stomach turned. "You can't understand what it's like! I had to- I watched people die while I did nothing! They Polyjuiced this girl into you and- I had to pretend to be loyal!"

"Oh!" She clasped his hand in hers. "We're just concerned about him. And you. It's just-" She cast a glance at Ron for support.

Ron said, "We won't help you defeat You-Know-Who only to let Snape take control."

"You don't have to worry about that," Harry assured them. "Besides, I don't trust him one hundred percent. I mean, I trust him with my life and I know he wants the Dark Lord dead, but I've made my own plans. I know it seems crazy and I can't explain it very well, but I got to know him." He looked at Hermione. "Have you ever read any of the plays on Faust?"

She nodded. "Goethe's, not Marlowe's, but-"

"I asked him why he joined the Death Eaters and he gave me Faust to read. He gave me loads of books to read."

Hermione perked up, but didn't say anything.

"He also compared himself to Captain Vere from _Billy Budd_."

"I've never read it," she said regretfully, shaking her head. 

Harry told them, "It's about a man who's forced to do terrible things out of a sense of duty." Ron still wore a frown on his face, but Hermione wore a look of fascination. "I would've been so bored in that prison if he hadn't given me a ton of books to read." And then, to judge their reactions, he added, "He even gave me books on sex."

"What?" Ron's eyes widened and he nearly fell over. "That's creepy, mate. Who'd want to think of that greasy wanker polishing his knob?"

Hermione turned pink and smacked Ron on the arm.

Harry laughed. "Here's the plan. I'll go to Hogwarts and take care of the Diadem. I think I'm the only one who can get into the Chamber to destroy it. Then I'll face the Dark Lord. Alone." 

 

[[ _Harry's grown so much, he actually escaped! I'm so proud of him. Of course, if poor Enitan hadn't panicked, a different outcome might've happened, but Harry's always had wonderful luck._

_So close to the end! With Harry out and about causing trouble, it's sure to come quick._ ]]


	62. Chapter 62

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

"I have to face him alone." Harry raised his hand to stop Ron and Hermione from interrupting and added, "He thinks I'm broken and I want to maintain that illusion. Don't worry, I'll be safe and I need you two to help me in another way. He'll put me through a ceremony, thinking that he's going to remove my soul and possess my body. It won't work. While he's occupied with the ceremony you'll storm Hogwarts and any other place the Death Eaters have infiltrated." 

"What about Nagini?" asked Hermione, her brows drawing together with concern.

"Snape suggested that we leave her for last and I want you two to focus on her and any other Horcruxes. If the Dark Lord-" Hermione and Ron exchanged tight glances and Harry pretended not to see. "-does have another Horcrux, he'll flee to that instead of her."

Hermione frowned. "Why would he flee to a Horcrux?"

"Snape says that there's no chance he can revive himself using the old method, so he'll probably go to another Horcrux and try to guard it."

Hermione's frown deepened. "Why? What's to stop him from just going around as a spirit? Don't all the Horcruxes need to be destroyed before he, himself, can be destroyed?"

Harry didn't know. Now that she pointed it out, wasn't that true as well? Wasn't that what Dumbledore had told him? He couldn't argue for Snape's plan when it made no sense at all. "If you think it's better that Nagini is destroyed first, then we'll need to find her first. He was carrying her with him, but I don't know if he'll still do that now that I'm out and about."

"And why shouldn't we go with you?" asked Ron.

"I don't want you near the ceremony."

Both Ron and Hermione asked, "Why?"

"Because, if I fail, you need to be able to not only try to finish what I started, but also to keep the resistance going. Others need to know how to destroy the Horcruxes in case I can't do it."

"Leave that for someone else!" said Ron, the muscles in his jaw clenching. "I'm fighting with you!"

"We'll do it," said Hermione.

"What?!" Ron whipped his head around to stare at Hermione.

Hermione met his gaze with one raised brow. "We'll talk about it later," she said, then turned back to Harry. "Now, tell us how you plan to break into the Chamber of Secrets."

Harry couldn't help but grin. Trust Hermione to take charge of the matter and get straight to business. "You have my Invisibility Cloak, right?"

She nodded. "We never left it out of our sight, just like you asked."

He didn't remember asking that, but assumed that Snape had asked for him. "I'll hide under it and sneak-"

"We'll help you," she offered. "Ron, where's the map?"

Ron reached into his robes and produced a long scroll which he spread out across the table. "Hogwarts," he announced with a grin. "Took us about two months to complete. It's better than the Marauder’s Map. Even Remus agrees."

Hermione explained, "It has too much magic to fold up into a spare bit of parchment, so we can't hide it and have built self-destruct spells into it that we can activate should it ever fall into the wrong hands. Instead of taking it with us, we leave it here, and when people return from their explorations, they make notes." 

"The castle is always changing," said Ron. "There is a room here-" He tapped a hallway with his wand. "-that only appears on full moons. Do you want to see where Ginny is?"

When Harry nodded, Ron said "Ginny Weasley" to the map and the sharp lines that delineated the walls and staircases melted into each other, re-shaping and forming into new rooms designating a different part of the castle. There, in the centre of the map, the words 'Ginny Weasley' appeared, in a room with some other names Harry vaguely recognised as Hogwarts students. 

"She's in the Room of Requirement," said Hermione. "That's our headquarters in Hogwarts. Ordinarily, we'd send someone to the library to find books and copy them there, but the security in the castle has increased - probably because of your escape - and they've not been able to venture out. 

"When Professor Lupin said that he couldn't recreate the Marauder’s Map on his own in one go just from his memory, we decided to review all the books that the Marauders checked out to try to find out how to make one of our own. As I was reading them, I realised that our knowledge in some areas was rather lacking and I've been working to rectify that. The books here-" She waved around the walls covered in bookshelves. "-are exact copies of the Hogwarts books. A few of them we've had to copy by hand, but most we've managed to reproduce through spells."

"Sometimes I feel like I'm dating an encyclopaedia," said Ron, which earned him a half-hearted glare from Hermione.

"Anyway," said Hermione. "The Chamber of Secrets is here." She waved her hand over the map and the Chamber swam into view. "Death Eaters patrol the hallways. You can see them moving now." She pointed to two names on the map that Harry didn't recognise. "They're normally pretty predictable in the paths they walk, but lately they've been all over the place. We'll have to use the mirrors."

"The mirrors?"

Ron pulled a small, circular mirror out of his robes. "The map wasn't the only thing the Marauders had that we reproduced," he said with a grin. "This is how we can use the map to sneak around Hogwarts while keeping the map safe here."

"Wait," said Harry. "Snape said that if they get one mirror, they can find the other."

"We know," said Hermione grimly. "That's why we only made two. If one of us should get captured, the other knows exactly what to do." She removed the counterpart to Ron's mirror from her own robes, as well as the shard of Sirius's mirror. 

"I'll stay here," offered Ron as he conjured a stand to set the mirror on. "I know the map better than anyone."

"I'll go with you," Hermione told Harry firmly and he knew from experience he wouldn't be able to persuade her otherwise. "We'll get a Portkey from Aberforth and go to his Inn. From there, we can enter Hogwarts through the portrait." With her attention turned to the broken mirror, she said, "Time to wake up!"

A familiar blue eye came into view. "Not this again," said the voice Harry vaguely recognised as belonging to Aberforth.

"We've got Harry!" she announced, turning the mirror so the blue eye could look at Harry.

Unsure of what else to do, Harry said, "Hullo."

Aberforth smiled and said, "Hullo, Harry. I didn't think I'd ever see you again." 

"I've wondered about it myself," said Harry. 

"We'll need a Portkey," said Hermione. "Harry needs to come to Hogwarts."

"There will be one waiting for you at the regular place."

"Thank you!" She put the mirror back in her robes. "We have a short amount of time before the Portkey deactivates." Spinning on her heel, she marched to the door and Harry had to run to keep up with her. After she’d led him outside the building, there were just a few jumps of Apparition before they found a broken flowerpot by the side of the road. The Portkey took them to the interior of the Inn, where Aberforth awaited them.

"The Death Eaters are swarming outside," said Aberforth. "I reckon they're expecting you."

"I believe so," said Harry. There was so much he wanted to ask Aberforth about Dumbledore, but he just didn't have the time. Who knew how long it would be before Voldemort did something drastic to force his return? He gave Aberforth a small smile before ducking under the Cloak, which Hermione had pulled from her bag. Keeping close behind and crouching, Harry followed as Hermione greeted a girl in a portrait.

"Hullo, Ariana."

Even with the whirlwind of activity and thought surrounding him, Harry couldn't help but stop to give the girl another glance. "Dumbledore's sister?"

"Yes," said Hermione in a low voice. "I'll tell you all about it later." To Ariana she said, "I've come to see our home."

Ariana smiled and turned, walking away from Harry and Hermione down a long, dark hallway, eventually disappearing into blackness. Hermione intently watched the portrait, so Harry did too, until he saw Michael Corner striding towards them alongside Ariana. Closer and closer they walked, until the portrait swung open on the wall, revealing a real tunnel hidden behind the painting. 

Jumping out, Michael exclaimed, "Have you heard the news? Harry's escaped!"

Quiet under the Cloak, Harry couldn't help but smile. 

"I know," said Hermione and Harry could hear the excitement in her voice. "We'll be planning at the main headquarters tonight. Tell as many trustworthy people as you can. I've got to take care of a task here first, then I'll go." They climbed up onto the mantelpiece and stepped into the tunnel and Michael led her down a long passageway lined with smooth, worn stones. Brass lamps lit up the path and cast shadows about them as they walked. "Is Ginny still here?"

"Nope." Michael shook his head. "She left as soon as she heard the news. Have you seen him? Is he okay? I mean, if he escaped, he's probably okay, but-"

"I've seen him," she admitted. "He looks great."

"He's not-" Michael glanced at Hermione and grimaced. "- _turned_ , is he? I know most of what the papers print is rubbish, but . . . he _was_ locked up with _Snape_ for weeks. And there are all those pictures...."

What could they have pictures of? Surely nothing more than the interview. That was the only time he remembered seeing cameras flash. 

"He wants You-Know-Who dead even more than before," Hermione assured Michael. "He says Snape wants You-Know-Who dead as well."

Michael snorted. "And you believe that?" 

"I believe that Snape wants what's best for himself. I don't trust him, and Harry says he doesn't fully trust him either, but Harry's alive, sane, and has solid plans to take care of You-Know-Who once and for all, so I think we can trust Harry. We'll just do our best to protect Harry from Snape."

Harry suspected that she wasn't only saying that for Michael's benefit. 

They stepped into a large room that was an almost identical replica of the main room in the safe house. Books lined the wood-panelled walls, and were scattered over large tables also strewn with maps, scrolls, and a variety of magical devices. A huge wireless sat in the corner and Terry Boot in a chair beside it, copying down the broadcast onto a scroll. The Patil twins glanced up from where they were examining a scroll on one of the tables, while Anthony Goldstein closed the book in his hand.

"It's true!" shouted Michael. "Harry's escaped!"

Their cheers and whoops drew Hannah Abbott from behind one of the three closed doors. Dressed in pyjamas and sleepily rubbing her eyes, she emerged from a dorm room filled with hammocks. 

"Harry's escaped!" Terry informed her and she grinned. "When do we fight?"

"We'll announce the details tonight," Hermione said. "I've got to go fetch a book. I'll see most of you tonight." They were too busy talking, making plans to spread the news, to pay much mind to her any longer and Harry slipped closer to her and gently touched her arm to let her know he was right behind her. Pulling the mirror out of her pocket and lifting it to her ear, she said, "We're ready," as a door appeared for her.

"Go!" hissed Ron through the mirror. "Turn right! Run down the hallway and take a left!"

Holding the mirror to her ear like a mobile, Hermione led Harry on twisting pathways through the castle. They ducked into empty classrooms, hid under the Invisibility Cloak, and had several close calls before they made their way to the bathroom.

Moaning Myrtle soared up out of a stall. Fearing their discovery, Harry put his finger to his lips and said in a whisper, "I'm here to destroy Tom - the boy who killed you."

"Oh good," she said. "I've been so lonely lately. You never come to visit me anymore."

"Who has come in here in the last four months?" asked Harry.

She grimaced. "A very ugly man came in here three months ago. I didn't like the look or sound of him, so I hid until he went away. After he came here, the Carrows started entering every time they did their rounds." 

"Was the man who came in here three months ago missing a nose and had red eyes?"

"Yes!" Moaning Myrtle gave a theatrical shiver. "He was horrid!"

"What did he do?"

"I didn't stay around to find out!"

"What about Professor Snape?"

"I've not seen him in here since last year," she said. "Boys aren't supposed to be in this bathroom, but they come in all the time anyway." Gliding closer to him, she added in a coy voice, "I don't mind you here though."

Scooting a bit away from her, he said, "Thanks!" and started towards the entrance, only to feel a rod of magic in front of him. "Wait!" He threw out an arm, stopping Hermione in her tracks. "It's covered in detection wards!"

"Detection wards?" asked Hermione, her brow wrinkling.

"Thin wards that will alert him to our presence." Harry felt around the ward, trying to find the edges.

"I've never heard of those," she huffed and he couldn't tell if she was more annoyed by not being able to feel them, or that he knew something she didn't. 

"Snape taught me how to detect them," he told her, using his magic to trace around them. They were crisscrossed all over the entrance to the Chamber. Not impossible to slip through - if he could fly. "If only we had a broom!"

"I do!" Hermione jangled a silver bracelet that encircled her right wrist. " _Cambio broom_!" A charm jumped off and transformed into a broom. "Fred and George have been busy as well. These brooms aren't the best - they can't go very fast and they fall apart after a while -, but they're perfect in an emergency." Mounting the broom, she motioned for him to get on in front of her. He chose to sit behind her so he could feel the wards with his hands while she steered. 

Parseltongue opened the tunnel, and holding onto Hermione tightly, both of them pressed low to the broom, Harry guided her up and over the wards, showing her how to avoid triggering any of them. "I'm not sure I'm getting them all," he admitted. "I don't know if there are other types Snape never mentioned to me."

"Just do your best," she said, gripping the broom tightly as though it would escape from her any second. He'd forgotten how much she hated flying. Once they got past the first few feet, the way down was mostly free of detection wards, giving them a clear, quick passage to the bottom, but no sooner had they reached it than they found a wall of flames blocking the single entrance into the Chamber itself. 

"This is a magical fire," said Hermione, examining the flames, "but I've never seen this particular type before."

"What does it look like?" asked Ron from the mirror.

Hermione turned the mirror around to give him a look. "Blue-green towards the top, but yellow throughout most of it. I also see specks of a deep purple that occasionally flair up. Do you know where the book on magical fire is kept?"

"I'm looking for it now," answered Ron. 

Thinking back over what Tom had said, Harry asked, "Are there any fires that would force us to discard all our possessions?"

Hermione nodded. "Angha Fire would. Ron, when you find that book, look up Angha Fire. I've the potion necessary to walk through it, but we'd have to remove _everything_. No broom, wands, clothing - even a hair tie could kill us."

Impressed, Harry asked, "What made you think to carry that potion?"

Giving him a sidelong glance, Hermione answered briskly, "Well, Professor Snape set up a magical fire as a way to help guard the Philosopher’s Stone. He included that logic puzzle as a way to further guard it, but Ron and I figured that he'd pick a type of fire nearly impossible to get through in order to guard _you_. Brewing the potion needed to get through Angha Fire is nearly impossible and the only way we could acquire it was to steal it." Her lips twisted in a grimace and she probably already had plans to find a way to pay for the potion after the war ended.

Harry wished there was a way that he could convince them that Snape wasn't the monster they thought him to be. It would just have to come with time. Changing the subject, Harry, thinking of the potions buried in his arms, asked, "What about internal objects?"

Frowning, Hermione asked, "Internal objects? What do you mean?"

Harry pointed at his mouth. "I've got potions hidden in here."

She frowned, then said, "I don't believe those would be affected, otherwise, if either of us has even the slightest foreign substance inside our bodies, we wouldn't be able to pass through safely. As I understand it, the fire has to touch the object for it to be consumed in flames. As long as the object is completely contained inside you, there shouldn't be a problem. It's all theoretical though; I've never-"

"Got it!" shouted Ron through the mirror. "Yep, matches the description. Of course, _hundreds_ of fires match that description. Are you sure it's Angha?"

Hermione glanced at Harry and Harry nodded. Even though he didn't trust Tom with his own life, he trusted that Tom wanted to live, which meant that he had to do his best to keep Harry's body alive.

"Yes," Hermione told Ron.

"Let's see...." said Ron. "You'll need to take a potion to be able to step through it-"

"Haoma potion?"

"Right," said Ron. "It says, 'Use extreme caution.'"

"Right," said Hermione, grimly staring at the wall of flames.

"There's no way around it," said Harry. "We'll have to undress."

"Oi!" Ron interjected from the mirror. "What's going on down there?"

Tensely, Hermione said, "We can't be wearing clothes when we go through the fire. We'll die if we do."

"Don't be looking at my girlfriend!" Ron yelled to Harry. 

"Oh, Ron, honestly!" Hermione snapped, then set the mirror on the floor.

"I can't see you!" yelled Ron.

"That's the point!" she yelled back.

Turning away from her to undress, Harry slid out of the robe he had borrowed from Neville. It would be suicide to enter the Chamber without a wand. Gritting his teeth, Harry pointed his wand at his left arm and sliced it open from wrist to elbow. He shoved the wand into the wound, and grabbed the healing potion from his mouth. With shaking fingers, pain dulling his thoughts, he poured the healing potion into the wound, then held the ripped skin closed over the wand, forcing it to heal with the wand stuck inside. It hurt like hell, but he would not step one foot beyond that fire without a wand. "Put that bracelet in your mouth," he called back to Hermione. "Make sure that we carry that broom over with us."

"Good idea," she said. "Okay, I'm ready. We need to drink the potion now."

Harry turned to see her standing with her hands folded above her genitals. Too ease her discomfort, he said, "Remember, I'm mostly blind without my glasses."

"Right," she said, her voice abnormally high. She took a generous swig from a bottle, then walked over and pressed the bottle into his hand. He drank, doing his best to ignore the sour milk taste. 

"We have half an hour," she informed him. "We have to cross back through the flames before that time is over."

"I'll go first," he offered, striding towards the flames. Sucking in a deep breath, he shoved his hand into the flames. Nothing happened. Now he would discover if internal objects burned. Taking a few steps back, he ran and rolled through the fire.

"I'm safe!" he yelled when he reached the other side unharmed.

Hermione dashed through, running several feet beyond Harry as if she couldn't believe she had passed through it.

Pointing his finger at his arm, Harry cast the cutting spell. Without a wand to guide it, the spell went wild, cutting diagonally instead of horizontally. "Fuck!"

"What's wrong?" asked Hermione.

Harry had to dig in his arm to find the tip of the wand and rip it out. 

"Merlin, Harry!" she cried, hurrying over. "What've you done!"

"I need my wand." There was blood pouring out of him. Shit. He should've made sure to bring blood replenishing potions too. 

Grabbing his arm, Hermione quickly cast healing spells. Harry tried not to stare at her breasts as she moved her hands up and down his arm. He'd never seen naked boobs before, much less big ones like hers. Snape would love them. 

Forcing Snape's appreciation for large tits from his mind, Harry kept his gaze on Hermione's face. She looked at every part of his body except his penis. 

He was so focused on her breasts and his naked penis that he forgot the healing potions buried under his skin until she was almost finished closing the skin. Pointing the wand at his upper arm, he cast " _Alohomora_!" The pill buried in his upper arm popped open. It felt like what he'd imagined it would feel like to get shot. Gritting his teeth, he tried to ignore the pain. The Healing Potion leaked out, easing the pain of both its opening and the wound from the wand. Soon, the wound in his arm stopped improving and he imagined the capsule containing the Healing Potion had been shut by his healing skin. Rather than open it again to let more potion seep out, he decided to save it for later.

"There," said Hermione triumphantly when she had finished sealing the cut. "When we get back to our robes, I'll give you a blood replenishing potion."

"Thanks," said Harry. "Let's go. Ron will be worried."

"Yes." She turned away from him and transfigured the broom. He tried not to stare at her breasts as she jumped on the broom, leaning forward on the stick of wood. 

Positioning himself as carefully as he could behind Hermione, he originally tried not to touch any part of her naked body at all. That being impossible on the small broom, he had to settle for keeping his dick away from her arse. Putting his hands on her shoulders rather than around her waist, he directed her to fly as close to the ceiling as possible, feeling for wards as they went. 

As they flew deeper and deeper into the Chamber, the water level rose and rose until there was only a few feet of space between the ceiling and the surface of the water. Bursting into the main chamber, they found a massive glowing sphere of deep red floating high above the water. 

"That's it!" cried Harry.

"It's so . . . obvious," said Hermione.

"I know," chuckled Harry as he directed her to fly towards it. "He probably never expected anyone to get this far." 

"Oh!" she cried when they got closer. "This is- It's-"

"It's what?"

"I'd never thought I'd see it," she said eagerly. "I've read all about them, but-"

"What is it?!"

"It's a blood ward! It's old - positively ancient - magic that can only be cast inside property controlled by a blood descendant of an ancient wizard family. Since this property was created by Salazar Slytherin to be used by his descendants, any blood descendant of his can claim ownership of it. 

If he set this up, that means that-"

"My blood can open it as well."

She nodded. "Only you and he can open it. If he possessed a new body, he could no longer open it, unless he somehow found remains of another descendant of Slytherin. No wonder he wants to possess your body." 

"Yeah," said Harry, even though he'd lied about that. Although he'd originally believed that he had been held captive while Snape researched a way to pull out his soul so that Voldemort could possess his body, he now suspected that Voldemort never intended to possess his body, and was simply researching a way to destroy _him_ without destroying the Horcrux. That's what Voldemort intended to do in this upcoming ceremony. "But anyone could just Polyjuice into me-"

"No," she corrected as she angled the broom to hover directly above the ball. "It must be blood directly from you, just as house-elves can only be summoned by their masters. I can't go in at all. You'll have to drop down. Be careful in there, Harry. Only a blood descendant can pass through a blood ward - not even magic can get through - so I won't be able to help you once you're in there."

"I'll jump."

"Wait! I know what we'll do! We'll let you scope it out before you drop in." Hermione held out a hand. "Cut open your palm, then give me your wand."

He did as she suggested.

Hermione pointed the wand at Harry and said, " _Levicorpus_!" Harry was jerked up into the air.

" _Mobilicorpus_!" She lowered him towards the swirling globe.

Sticking his hand down, he pressed it against the hard, warm surface. A burst of shimmering light shot forth and the hardness melted away. Golden swirls spread from his hand out over the surface of the ball. As soon as his head dipped below the surface, he spotted a box resting on a white disk floating in the centre, about ten feet below him. The disk, almost twice his body length in diameter, appeared to be composed of marble. Landing on it while avoiding the box in the centre would be tricky. He'd have to fall straight down and somehow land towards one of the edges without falling off. Pulling his hand above the surface, he flicked it up, motioning for Hermione to lift him back up out of the ball. 

Instead of lifting him, Hermione dropped him.

"SHIT!"

Curling into a ball, Harry managed to roll himself over, shifting his legs downward. He landed hard, pain shooting up his legs and nearly knocking him off the platform. Swearing and trying not to put weight on his damaged right ankle, Harry scrambled onto the floating disk to avoid slipping off the platform and falling through the sphere and into the water. Now fully on the platform, he crept to the centre where a wooden chest rested. This was it. This was where the Horcrux was hidden. Hobbling over to it, Harry ran through possible scenarios Voldemort would use to defend against him. All he knew was that it would be risky to try to touch the box. He knew nothing about poisons, much less antidotes. He barely knew any opening spells as it was.

He yelled for Hermione, but she didn't answer. She probably couldn't hear him beyond the magical protection of the sphere. He'd have to figure it out on his own.

Like most magical containers the chest had no lock - at least as far as he could tell. Trying every single opening spell except the dangerous ones, didn't work. He had to open that box, but he couldn't touch it, and he was absolutely rubbish at conjuring spells. There was nothing else he could do. Removing two ovals from his mouth - one containing the now quickly gulped Healing Potion, the other containing the potion that would save him - he pressed the capsules against either side of the lid and pushed it up. The Diadem glittered from where it lay perched upon folds of silk. Now to destroy it. But how? And with what? Fiendfyre should do the trick - only he didn't dare try to cast it without a wand. He couldn't pick it up or touch it, otherwise it might try to twist his mind. He needed the wand from Hermione, and that meant dropping down into the water. 

Forcing himself to walk on his pained ankle, Harry hurried to the edge of the platform and sucked in a huge breath of air. He jumped off, falling through the sphere and landing in water so black, he almost didn't know which way was up. Kicking to the surface, he cleared the water and heard Hermione screaming something. Turning towards the direction her voice came from, his muddled brain finally made out her words. 

"GRAB THE BROOM! GRAB THE BROOM!" 

Throwing up a hand, he managed to catch it and she yanked him up out of the water, grabbing him by the arm as she flew straight at the ceiling. Something heavy and sharp slammed into his back, tearing through his skin and pulling him back towards the water. Holding tight to Hermione and the broom, Harry managed to rip himself away from whatever had struck him.

"THERE'S A MONSTER!" yelled Hermione as she soared to the highest rafter in the Chamber. "IT ALMOST KNOCKED ME OFF THE BROOM!"

Glancing back down, Harry caught a glimpse of long, spindly arms with short spikes just before the creature disappeared below the surface. Seemingly safe at the top of the Chamber, Harry pulled himself more firmly onto the broom and Hermione handed him the wand.

As soon as he grabbed it, he popped open all of the healing capsules inside of him. For a moment, he had to sit there, taking the pain of their combined openings before his healing skin closed them again. Thankfully, the pain soon faded, taking away with it much of the agony from his back as well as all of the hurt from his ankle. He'd known this wouldn't be easy, but he should've asked for more healing potions. He had no idea how many times he could pop them open before all of the liquid inside them leaked out, but he hoped he wasn't close to running out.

Panting, Hermione asked, "Did you destroy the Diadem?"

"Not yet," said Harry. "I'm going to take the wand and jump back in there. I'll cast Fiendfyre, then jump off the side."

"It's dangerous to-"

"I know, but I need that Diadem destroyed. Unless you know of a way to turn wood to glass so I can trap the fire inside the glass, then-"

"Oh! I know! Just cast _Gyalium_. But Harry, be careful. Fiendfyre isn't easy to confine. It can't escape past the blood ward, but it's fast."

"I'll be careful," he promised, guiding the broom over so they were perched above the globe again. "Now, dive down and drop me off. I'll be about . . . twenty seconds. At the end of those twenty seconds, be directly beneath the globe, ready to catch me. Got it?"

She made a small noise of despair deep in her throat, but nodded and clutched the broom tightly. "All right."

"Go!" 

She dove straight for the ball. The water rippled beneath them, but Harry ignored it, focusing only on what was contained within that glowing sphere. As soon as he could, he jumped, cutting the bottom of his foot as he did so. He landed perfectly, just in the right position to flourish his wand and turn the box to glass. Using the capsules to gently open the lid that was now made of glass, he held the wand between his knees as he manoeuvred it until the tip of the wand was inside the box. Slowly, so as not to break the glass, he let the lid rest on the wand. Then he released the potion capsules to grab his wand. Waiting until enough seconds had passed, counting each one in his head, he then cast Fiendfyre, yanked out the wand, turned, and dashed across the platform. Escaped flames raced after him and, as he turned around as he jumped off, he saw that the entire platform was being swallowed whole by an inferno composed of living creatures of flame.

" _Wingardium Leviosa_!" he cast on himself to slow his descent enough to catch Hermione as she flew by. He grabbed the broom at an angle and tried to pull himself upright, only to be nearly knocked off by a strong jerk of the broom.

"Steady!" he called to her.

"I'm not doing anything!" she yelled back. "The magic is fading!"

Soon their broom would be as useless as a Muggle one. 

Hermione screamed as a spike-covered limb swung towards them. Hauling himself firmly onto the broom, Harry yelled, "Give me control!" She did and he swerved around the flailing limb. "Take the wand!" He thrust it into her hand. "Cast spells to stop it!"

She cast furiously, but never any Dark Magic spells, and all her attacks were weak compared to what a Death Eater could do. 

"Cast _Sectumsempra_!" Harry yelled to her. She tried it and he heard a roar from behind them.

"IT'S ANGRY!" she screamed. "IT'S GAINING!"

Holding onto her and the broom as tightly as he could, Harry raced towards the exit. Water lapped beneath them. Hermione screamed in his ear. Limbs rose up out of the water before him. Yet Harry knew instinctively just how to move - just how he'd always been able to move on the Quidditch field. He put all distractions from his mind and focused on the exit. He would make it. They would be safe.

The water receded more and more as they flew and, after several minutes of flying, Hermione yelled, "It can't leave the water! We're safe!"

Soaring towards the wall of flames, Harry couldn't help but whoop. "The Dark Lord defeated by Quidditch skills!" If Snape could see him now! The broom tore to the side and Harry knew he had to be careful not to use it up before it lost all magic. Flying down to a safe landing spot, he hopped off the broom. Hermione grabbed him in a huge hug, crushing him tightly against her body.

"You're insane!" she said with a laugh that was half fear, half relief.

"Turn the broom back! We need to preserve the magic."

"Right." The broom disappeared into the jangle of charms and she suddenly stepped away from him as if he had turned into something slimey.

Puzzled as to what caused her sudden coldness, Harry glanced at her, only to realise they were both still very naked. Neither looking at the other, they re-hid the bracelet and the wand before they ran through the wall of flames, Hermione snatching up the mirror on the other side and carefully holding it so that Ron could only see her face. "It's finished!"

"Just in time!" said Ron. "No one's in the East Corridor at the moment."

"We'll be out shortly," she said, dropping the mirror and grabbing her clothes.

Harry tried not to look at her as he dressed. As he swung the Invisibility Cloak over his shoulders, he said, "Another Horcrux down." He'd take care of the last two tomorrow.


	63. Chapter 63

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

Not only Ron awaited him at the safe house, but also the twins, Molly, Charlie, and so many other people, he lost track in the huge swell that surrounded him. Everyone wanted to touch him, as if by touching him they could assure themselves he was still alive.

Just when it became too much and he wanted to go to one of the side rooms with just a few of his friends, Ginny pushed her way through the crowd and threw her arms around him. Burying his face in her hair, he hugged her tightly. It felt amazing just to smell her clean, flowery scent. Tom had been wrong about Snape. Snape would never harm Ginny. Never.

Luna returned home and distracted the crowd with a warning about the growing cariblanca threat. Escaping to a side room with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny, Harry dropped into a chair, tugging on his robes. He'd always hated being forced naked, but after so long without wearing clothes, they now felt oppressively hot and constricting. 

He turned to Hermione and asked, "Do you have anything else of mine other than the Cloak and the mirror shard?" He suspected that the photo album was with Snape, just as Tom had said, but who knew what else Hermione had.

Nodding, she reached into her handbag and pulled out the mirror shard and Phineas Black's picture frame. "These both belong to you," she said, passing them over. As usual, Phineas wasn't in the frame. An idea suddenly struck him and Harry shrank the portrait casually slipped it into his pocket as if it didn't matter. 

Then, later, after talk of Nagini and the possible places where she might be hidden, Harry escaped to the bathroom with the excuse of putting on the new clothes they had acquired for him.

Once alone, he set up wards, pulled out Phineas's portrait, and enlarged it.

"I need to talk to you," he told the canvas. "I need to know if he's okay."

Nonchalantly, Phineas wandered into the frame. "Perhaps you should have thought of that before your little stunt today."

"Just tell me if he's okay."

Phineas arched an critical eyebrow at him much like Snape often did. "So sure I have answers, aren't you?"

"Look," said Harry, frustrated. "I know. I know that he was using you to talk to Ron and Hermione. I know I've got a Horcrux in me. I know-"

Phineas's disdainful tone turned to one of cool curiosity. "You know about the Horcrux?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, and that's why I'm going to die tomorrow. I'll kill him and then-"

"It must be by the Dark Lord," Phineas said. "He cannot die while that fragment of soul within you remains alive. You need to die first, by his hand. It is the only way he can be destroyed."

Harry had to ask, "Dumbledore knew this, didn't he?"

Phineas gave a short nod. "He was the one who told me. Severus knew as well, of course."

"I know," said Harry, his heart squeezing tight. Why had Snape never told him? Why had Snape promised that he'd live when Snape knew he needed to die. "He never told me... Thank you."

Resizing the portrait, he slipped it back into his pocket. Even though he'd already chosen his course of action, hearing it stated so matter-of-factly made his heart pound in his chest harder than ever. With cold hands, he returned to the room where his friends awaited him with smiles. 

More people returned from the field to greet him and the room filled with more and more faces. Lost in himself, the noisy crowd seemed as though it were miles away from where he was.

Someone announced that dinner was ready and the throng of people made their way to the dining room, people still talking to him, giving him their congratulations and telling him they'd always believed in him. He barely heard any of it, he just held Ginny's hand and took his seat at the table.

Even with the thought lurking in the back of his mind that this would be the last night he would ever spend with any of them, the joy of just being there – surrounded by loved ones – was enough to override all the pain of the past and the knowledge of what was to come. He would save them – all of them.

His stomach was so tight, he could hardly eat and only spoke when necessary. No one seemed to mind, they were happy to fill him in on daring escapes and close encounters. After dinner, holding Ginny's hand tightly in his, Harry told them every single thing he knew about Horcruxes. Hermione chimed in with all the new Horcrux destruction techniques she'd uncovered in her latest research, and then Arthur updated them on the overseas support.

When Arthur finished, Harry stood. "Tomorrow," he told them, "we'll defeat _him_." Snape would call him arrogant, but he knew it was true. No one said a word – everyone just watched him expectantly. "What he fears most are attacks on his Horcruxes and that's what we'll do tomorrow. I know you've been talking about re-taking Hogwarts for some time, and I think we should. I'll move separately. There's a good chance he still thinks I'm loyal to him and, if I convince him of that, I can get close. I'll need your help." He gazed around the room. "It's likely the Death Eaters will put up a fight after he's gone, and I'll need help with them. Remember, without the Horcruxes, he's just a man.

"I'll be leaving at dawn tomorrow. I would like two hours to myself before you begin your attack."

Ron stood. "And I have an attack plan for Hogwarts." Spreading out the master map, Ron began his lecture on retaking Hogwarts.

Ginny squeezed Harry's hand as he returned to his seat. "You don't have to do this alone," she whispered. 

"I know," said Harry. "But I want to. Besides, I won't be alone. I'll have all of you helping me. I have Snape waiting."

"You trust him completely?" Ginny's eyes searched Harry's face.

Harry nodded. "With my life."

She said nothing more, turning her attention back to Ron. It wasn't until later, when everyone had gone to bed and he found himself in a room alone with her that she brought up the subject again.

"What was he like as a guard?"

"Snape?" Harry kicked off the borrowed trainers, dumped his outer robes on the floor, and fell onto the bed.

"Yeah." She lay down beside him. "He was your full-time guard, right?"

"Most of the time. In general, he was a git, especially at the beginning, but we became friends over time." Rolling onto his side to face her, he asked, "Can you promise me something?"

Without hesitation, she said, "Yes."

"I'm the only one he has and he saved my life. If I- If I don't make it." Her brow furrowed, but she didn't interrupt. "He'll have no one to help him. He deserves the Order of Merlin, not Azkaban. I know it's a lot to ask and I know he'll reject any help you try to give him, but promise me you'll do everything you can to make sure he doesn't end up suffering even though he helped me. Even though he helped Dumbledore. He's been on our side for . . . years. I don't even know."

"Harry," she said gently. "He murdered Mundungus and then gloated about it."

"I know." Harry rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. "He's done terrible things. But those terrible things earned the trust of the Dark Lord. When we win tomorrow, it will be because of his help. He deserves to be recognised for that." Glancing at her, he said, "He saved my life. He's the only reason I made it out of that prison sane. Please. Help him however you can."

"I promise," she said. "I'll do my best."

"Thanks." He turned on his side to kiss her.

Softly, sweetly, she kissed him back. It was nothing like how it had been with Snape. Even at his most tender, Snape had seemed to suck Harry's breath away, leaving Harry's heart racing as if they'd just had a brawl rather than shared a kiss. Ginny's kisses were a gentle gift of love, each one an unspoken 'I love you'.

And he loved her. Differently than Snape, but he loved her. She was everything he'd ever wanted. More than anything else, he wanted to get married to her, have a family much like her family (well, maybe not as large) and settle down to a life that others might call boring and simple, but would be perfect for him. He could see it now, the future he wanted but knew would never be, where he was an Auror, she his wife, and they had red-headed green-eyed children who went to Hogwarts and excelled at Quidditch. The thought that he would never have that shredded his insides and, although he was resigned to his fate, if he knew how it could be otherwise, he would've fought like hell to have that perfect future with Ginny.

He could never have that with Snape. The idea of starting a family with Snape was ludicrous. If not for all the physical limitations, Snape _hated_ children. It would never work, yet even as he reminded himself of that, he still knew he loved him. Although the thought of his own death didn't fill him with sadness for himself anymore, the thought of leaving Snape and how lonely Snape would be after he was gone was almost enough to put him off his mission. If only he could live to protect Snape and give him the love he deserved. 

Was it possible to be in love with two so very different people in two very different ways? He loved them both and he couldn't stand the thought of losing either of them. 

Following Snape's advice and what Snape used to do to him, Harry undressed her slowly, taking his time to stroke and kiss each part of her body that he uncovered. Her tits were perfect - soft and perky, just big enough to cup in the palms of his hands and give a good squeeze. Snape would probably consider them too small, but he loved the feel of the soft supple flesh in his hands and how her nipples hardened against his fingers. If Snape hadn't shown him how sensitive nipples could be, he probably would've focused on the breasts themselves, but he now knew just how to play with the hard nubs to make her moan and press her body up against his. 

She tried to replicate his actions on him, but she wasn't nearly as good at it as Snape had become. It didn't matter though, as hearing her groans and feeling her body tense and shiver in pleasure was more than enough to fill his cock. It was hard to hold back and, although he remembered how good it was when Snape took it slow and played with his nipples until he was desperate for more, he didn't have the restraint to do so with Ginny, and returned to helping her out of her clothes. 

When he had her down to her panties, he finally went for the prize, rubbing her through the thin, wet cloth. 

"Does it feel good?" he asked her.

She gave a crooked smile and, snaking down her hand, moved his an inch downward. "Softer and slower," she said.

Damn. He was such a virgin. He should've asked Snape for books on straight sex. Suddenly, he realised what else he didn't know.

"I don't know the spells," he admitted.

Ginny frowned. "The spells?"

"You know, lubrication and...." Did vaginas need cleaning? He had no idea. "Stuff."

She blinked at him several times before she said, "I don't need lubrication. If you mean pregnancy prevention, we use potions, not spells. I've got it covered." 

"Oh, right. Forgot." Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. To distract her, he pulled off her panties and settled between her thighs. This was what giving head should be like. Delicious without the threat of gagging. He had no idea how to pleasure a woman, but he tried to do to her clit what Snape had done to his arsehole. Judging by how she grabbed the sheets and moaned his name, she liked it. As much as he wanted to hold out until she was begging for his cock, he couldn't resist for long. He fingered her carefully - one, two, three - making sure she was ready before he moved into position.

Wanting to give her a first time far better than his had been, he asked, "Are you ready?"

She smiled at him. "Yes."

Carefully, so as not to hurt her, he lined his cock up with her opening and slid slowly into her body, into her warm, wet heat. Oh fuck, it was perfect! He'd imagined penetration to feel wonderful, but it was bloody brilliant. Was this what it had felt like for Snape? Had his body pulsed around Snape's cock the way hers was pulsing around his? He should've demanded a go inside Snape! She wrapped her legs around his thighs and, with her hands on his hips, pulled him steadily into her. A brief expression of pain flashed across her face, but it was gone almost as soon as it appeared. 

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

She laughed. "I had to lose it sometime. It doesn't hurt, not really. The first time's always said to be the worst, so it can only get better."

That was true. It was torture to move so slowly, but he was determined to give her only pleasure. On shaking hands and arms, concentrating his hardest on not coming, he inched his way inside her body. If Snape could have the restraint and patience for him, then he certainly could do the same for her. When he'd finally buried himself completely, she breathed a sigh of relief and said, "I'm good."

He pulled back and thrust. 

And came. 

Fuck.

"Mmmm," she moaned. "Do that again."

Bloody hell. Why hadn't he trained his cock like Snape? He'd never be able to give her the good, hard pounding he'd come to love if he couldn't keep himself erect! Embarrassed, he pulled out his disobedient cock and said, "Give me a minute." 

Ginny's forehead furrowed in confusion before realisation dawned and she said, "Oh! Let me help with that." She manoeuvred him to lie flat on the bed. Then, with a flick of her hair, she bent down to suck him into her mouth. 

Oh fuck! It was bloody brilliant! Relaxing back against the bed, he spread his legs, and shifted his bum, giving her greater access to his balls. Rather than take his cue, she steadily worked her way down his rapidly hardening prick. She gagged several times, but always went back for more, and soon she had nearly his entire cock stuffed all the way in her mouth and pulled pleasure from him so intense, he could hardly breathe. She knew just how to suck his cock and, before long, he was ready to give it another go. She mounted him, her tight, hot pussy gripping him like he'd never been gripped before as she bounced away above him.

Even in his wildest dreams he had never imagined it would be so perfect. It was a bit too amazing and soon he was trying hard not to come again, all of his energy focused on staying hard for her. If only he could've trained his cock to give her a fucking like Snape had given him! She didn't seem to mind though, her moans making it hard for him to restrain himself.

Thankfully, she knew how to take care of herself, and when she came, crying out his name and pulsing around him, he let himself go. 

"Ginny," he gasped out, never wanting this moment to end, never wanting to be apart from her.

She pulled herself off of him, and lay down on top of him, her head resting on his shoulder. 

"I love you, Harry."

Harry wrapped his arms around her. "I love you too." It was so easy to say to her. So easy to hear it, too. He could never say it to Snape, and he couldn't imagine ever hearing it from Snape. Why couldn't Snape be open and honest like Ginny? Why did everything between them have to be full of pretence and denial? Why couldn't they just tell each other how they felt instead of pretending they hated each other? Why did they always have to fight?

Harry pushed Snape from his mind. He was here with Ginny. Finally, he'd become a man. He enjoyed being protected, but he loved protecting. He'd protect her and Snape entirely on his own. No one else would have to die to save him. 

Sleep rolled upon him, but he fought it, determined to stay awake for this last night alive. Ginny drifted off above him, and, once he was sure that she'd remain asleep, he slipped away from her, gathered up his necessary belongings and left to finish what had been started long ago.


	64. Chapter 64

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

A light drizzle was falling when Harry arrived outside of Hogsmeade. Under the safety of the Invisibility Cloak, he crept towards the Forbidden Forest. It was far too cold for the chill to be natural, and he gripped his wand tightly, ready for the Dementors he knew were lurking nearby.

None came for him and, in the safety of the forest, he stripped down to his trousers and t-shirt. Throwing the wand he'd stolen to the forest floor, Harry pulled out the Snitch, pressed it to his lips in shaking hands, and said, as steadily as he could, "I'm about to die."

The Snitch broke open, revealing the Resurrection Stone sitting in the centre. As it was too dark to examine the carvings with his eyes, he ran his fingers over them, making out the triangle of the Cloak, and the circle for the Stone. Closing his eyes, he turned the stone over in his hands three times.

In the darkness, he heard the sound of others, and when he opened his eyes, he was surrounded by figures. Sirius stood grinning, looking younger and healthier than Harry had ever seen him in life. James's loving smile and shock of dark hair were almost identical to Harry's. He was still dressed in what he'd been wearing when he'd died, and his glasses were a bit lopsided. Lily stood near James, her smile the brightest of all. She pushed her hair back as she approached him, her green eyes exactly like his. 

"You've been so brave."

Had they been watching him all along? Had they seen everything that had happened? Had they seen everything with Snape? Even with his happiness at seeing them, he couldn't stand the thought of them watching while he'd been raped and tortured. Shame filled him and he almost wished he hadn't summoned them.

"We've never been more proud of you," said James, and Harry couldn't help but give him a smile, the growing ice in his stomach melting. It didn't matter to them what had happened to him. They'd love him no matter what. It didn't matter what happened next. He'd be with them again shortly. Permanently this time. He'd never suffer the agony of loss again.

Sirius stepped forward. "I'm honoured to be your godfather."

"I've missed you," said Harry, looking at each of them in turn. 

"We've always been with you," said Lily. "And we'll stay with you until the end."

"I can't take the Stone with me," he told her, regretfully. "I have to go without it."

"That's fine," said James with a nod. "We'll still be with you."

Even at the worst of it, he'd never been alone. And now, he could watch over his friends the way that they had watched over him. Glad to know that the end was only the beginning of something new, Harry said, "I'll see you again shortly," and dropped the Stone near the base of a tree. He pulled off his Invisibility Cloak and hid it with the Stone. 

He left for Hogwarts with nothing to protect him but his thin clothes. He wished he knew how to conjure the collar Snape had placed on his neck, but he had no idea how. Eager submission would have to convince Voldemort. 

Voices sounded near Hogwarts's gate and Harry, spotting a group of Death Eaters gathered in front, stepped out of the forest and said, "I seek my Master."

For a moment, none of them knew what to do. Then, he was surrounded, tied up, and pulled along at wand point as if they expected him to break free at any moment.

"Summon the Dark Lord!" 

Voldemort wasn't already here? Where was he?

They dragged him into Hogwarts, pulling him into the Great Hall where a throne sat where Dumbledore once had. Harry lowered his head as soon as they stepped into the Hall, ready to bow and scrape. A door slammed open at the other end and footsteps sounded - quick and determined. He'd recognise them anywhere.

Falling to his knees, Harry pressed his forehead to the floor and begged, "Forgive me, Master. I tried to resist them, but I failed."

" _Crucio_!"

All of the pain seemed to be centred in his scar. It didn't hurt as much as it used to - it hadn't for a while, but it didn't make sense that only his scar should hurt. Still, he screamed and writhed on the floor. He couldn't afford to slip up - not this close to the end -, and so he guarded his mind.

Thankfully, Voldemort didn't try to press inside. "Prepare him," he ordered.

Harry was hauled to his feet and dragged from the room. As he was pulled up, he caught a glimpse of Voldemort with Nagini wrapped around his shoulders. She was here! The Order would be able to kill her for sure! All the pieces were in place.

Scrambling, trying to keep up with the quick pace of the Death Eaters dragging him away, Harry glanced around for Snape as he was pulled out the castle, towards the Forbidden Forest. In a clearing not far from Hagrid's hut rested a stone altar surrounded by runes.

They yanked him past it, to a bathtub. Tearing off his clothes, they pushed him into the tub and scrubbed him down magically and manually. It took all of his will power to placidly allow them to do whatever they wanted, even when one of them stuck a hose in his anus and sprayed cold water up his arse. He was just trying to figure out how to kick them without being caught when he was pulled from the tub, dried off with spells that made all his hair stand on end, dressed in a white tunic, and floated back to the altar. 

The number of Death Eaters gathered in the clearing had grown, but Snape was nowhere in sight. Harry couldn't exactly peer closely at the faces, and the Death Eaters all dressed fairly similarly, but he'd recognise Snape's stiff posture anywhere. 

They laid him on the altar and a witch Harry'd never seen before approached, drawing designs on his body with cold, wet goo.

Where was Snape? Wasn't he supposed to do this step? Had something happened? 

After she’d finished with the designs, the witch poured a thin, sweet-tasting potion down Harry's throat, then stepped away.

This was it. Time to die. He closed his eyes, ready to slip away into nothingness.

~

He woke in a room clouded with fog. Tom stood in the centre, staring down at Harry.

"Did you really think he'd let you go?"

It hadn't worked? Cursing, Harry climbed to his feet. "It doesn't matter. There are other ways for me to die."

"And be stopped." Tom waved his hands, and bars shot out of the floor, surrounding Harry. "I've let you have control for far too long. I won't die by your hands."

Slamming his fists against the bars, Harry yelled, "I'll never let you have control!"

Tom laughed. "You're so naive." He waved his hand and the bars shifted, turning into chains which held Harry in place, spread-eagle. "Not to mention so easily manipulated."

"Fuck you," spat Harry. "I'll never set you free. You'll never see those memories because-"

Tom smirked. "What memories are you talking about?" 

His heart sinking to his stomach, Harry glared back.

Gliding over to Harry, Tom leaned forward. "Do you mean that wall I showed you? Silly child, that wall was the wall that contained me inside your mind. It's crumbled now. Severus messed up. Or rather, you messed up. The plot to remove me failed."

Was that the purpose of the white potion? Why hadn't Snape just said so? Hadn't Harry warned him that keeping secrets just put the two of them in more danger? Angry, Harry said, "It doesn't matter. I've never trusted you and I'll never rest as long as you're alive."

Tom pressed up against Harry, holding his chin in place so he wouldn't get bitten. "You've already proven yourself capable of falling in love with your captors. I wonder if rape will cause you to fall in love with me just as it did for Severus?"

"Fuck. You."

Grinning, Tom said, "You're such a fun little plaything. I may give you a body of your own, eventually, but for now, I think I'll keep you locked up in here." Releasing Harry's chin, he waved his hand, and Harry started sinking into the floor.

No!

This was _his_ mind. Tom had no right to take control! Focusing all of his concentration on his feet, Harry strained until he managed to pull one foot out of the muck. 

"No, you don't!" said Tom as he threw up walls around Harry.

Ripping his other foot free, Harry smashed through them, using thought again to create bars of iron around Tom. Knives flew at Harry and he stood, turning them harmless as they were deflected past him.

"I can help us both!" yelled Tom as he sent the floor rolling.

Harry flew up into the air and changed the floor to spikes. "Stop lying!"

Suddenly, bright green light filled their battlefield.

"NO!" screamed Tom. "He wouldn't!"

But Voldemort had.

Throwing out his arms, Harry welcomed the Killing Curse. 

~

He woke on the altar when a cold hand pressed against his neck. Off in the distance, explosions and shouts filled the air, the smell of smoke and spells thick around him. The dull ache in his scar was gone and somehow, Harry knew that Tom had left him forever.

"He's dead," said Narcissa, her icy fingers pressed against Harry's pounding pulse.

"Take him to be put on display in the Ministry," ordered Voldemort, his voice confident. "Everyone else, follow me. It's time we finished this pathetic rebellion."

Narcissa's fingers withdrew from his neck as the Death Eaters marched off, heading towards Hogwarts, towards the sound of battle. 

" _Levicorpus_!" He felt his body lift. Narcissa floated him through the air, moving him away from the direction of Hogwarts. After what was probably a minute, but seemed like ages, she lowered him to the ground, then dropped something thin, long and light onto his chest.

"He'd want you to have this," she said in a whisper. "If you find my son, save him."

Harry opened his eyes slowly. Narcissa was kneeling above him. Paler than ever with huge, dark circles under her eyes, she met his gaze with pleading eyes. "He'll be killed if the Dark Lord finds him," she said, her voice cracking.

Sitting up, Harry felt the object roll off his chest. Glancing down, he found a wand. Snape's wand. Snatching it up, he jumped to his feet. "Snape?" he asked, not wanting to hear the answer.

Her lips pressed thin, she shook her head. "He took the Elder Wand," she said as she stood. "That's why Draco is in danger. You must save him." Throwing her cloak hood over her silvery hair, she hurried off, disappearing into the blackness of the forest.

No.

It couldn't be.

But Snape never would've given up his wand. 

Unless he had been planning to give his wand to Harry all along. 

Hoping desperately, Harry gripped the wand and ran off towards the fight. He was almost out of the clearing, when he spotted Nagini curled on the ground. He raised Snape's wand, but as he approached, he realised the reason she'd been left behind.

Her mouth hung open, black foam covering her tongue and eyes. She was dead.

Harry grinned. All the Horcruxes were gone! Only Voldemort was left.

As Harry raced towards the entrance of Hogwarts the chaos and the noise increased. People shouted his name and spells flew past him, but he ignored everything, not even casting, focusing all his strength and energy on finding Voldemort. 

The Order members weren’t the only ones fighting. House-elves scurried around, casting spells at giant spiders (Aragog's descendants most likely); centaurs, led by Bane, Ronan, and Magorian, shot arrows; giants fought Thestrals; and hippogriffs swooped, clawed and soared. 

Bursting through what remained of the doors leading to the Great Hall, Harry screamed, "Voldemort!"

An eerie silence followed as everyone - both friend and foe - turned to stare at him. 

"Impossible!" said a voice.

"Harry Potter," spat Voldemort, as he turned from duelling McGonagall, Kingsley, and Slughorn, and raised his wand. "I should have known. No matter. I'll kill you, just as I killed Severus Snape."

"No," said Harry, unwilling to believe that Snape was dead. The battle returned to life around them, Voldemort knocking off the spells directed towards him with lazy flicks of his wand, Harry dodging the ones that came his way. "He's alive. He knew you were planning to kill him. He prepared for it. We're allies."

Voldemort laughed. Behind him, Bellatrix was fighting Ginny, Hermione, and Luna, but Harry pushed it from his mind. He had to focus. He had to take Voldemort down. 

"That's what he wanted you to think," said Voldemort. "He was loyal to the end. A shame I had to kill him to take this." He held up his wand and Harry knew it to be the Elder Wand even with his bad eyesight.

Realisation rising in him like a tidal wave, Harry announced, "He hasn't been yours for _years_ , Tom."

" _You dare-_ " hissed Voldemort.

"Oh yes," said Harry. "I know more than you think. I spoke with your other self and he told me how to destroy you."

The red eyes widened slightly before narrowing and Harry knew he had him. Voldemort had feared his other self - so much that he'd probably done his best to keep Harry from knowing the truth. Maybe even so much that he'd tried to kill Harry with the hope of killing his other self - even knowing it would bring him one step closer to death.

From the way Voldemort was eyeing him now, Harry imagined he was trying to determine whether the Horcrux had been destroyed or lived just as Harry lived.

Harry didn't intend to let him find out. "Go ahead," he challenged. "Try to strike me down. That wand is useless in your hands because you aren't the true master."

Voldemort's red eyes glittered. "Which will soon be remedied when I find the Malfoy boy."

"You don't get it, Tom. Snape didn't offer to teach Draco duelling to take the power of the wand for himself, he trained Draco in duelling to give the power of the wand to _me_. I'm the true master of the Elder Wand. That's why the Cruciatus you cast on me earlier didn't hurt me at all - only Tom."

Surprise flickered over Voldemort's face, but then confidence replaced it, and he jerked the Elder Wand.

Ready for the attack, Harry yelled, " _Accio Elder Wand_!" before Voldemort yelled _Avada Kedavra_!"

The wand soared out of Voldemort's hand, the spell not cast. His skills as a Seeker as sharp as ever, Harry caught it and, in the same breath, shouted " _Avada Kedavra_!"

Green light blazed forth from the Elder Wand and Voldemort fell, his face frozen in death. He hit the floor with a heavy thud, his eyes a dull black instead of red. 

Shrieks of delight and horror filled the room as dozens of spells raced towards Harry. Dodging more quickly than he'd ever dodged in his life, Harry sent spells racing back at the Death Eaters who were attempting to do what their master could not.

The months of training kicked in, and Harry wove his way through the confusion of the hall, casting shield charms on his allies in between throwing curses at the Death Eaters. Without his glasses and with all the chaos and smoke further clouding his vision, Harry didn't dare cast the Killing Curse, but did his best to follow the deadly spells that raced at him back to their sources. Despite the fact that he'd spent most of his imprisonment dodging instead of casting, each spell hit its target unerringly. It was better than any practice session with Snape simply because he wasn't targeting faceless blobs of coloured balls, but the very people who'd put him and his friends through hell. 

Macnair sent a curse at Hagrid, and Harry, with a wave of his wand, sent the executioner flying through a wall, chased by shards of fiery glass. George and Lee Jordan were tangling with Yaxley, and Harry tumbled the Death Eater to the floor with _Sectumsempra_ across his chest. A Death Eater that Harry didn't know tried to curse Neville, and Harry managed to get a shield charm in the way before Ron and Neville both took the man down.

Mrs Weasley, her hair wild and her dress torn and stained with blood, wasn't using her left arm at all as she cast furiously, defending Ginny from the elder Mulciber. 

Even though Harry knew he shouldn’t, he cast a cutting spell on his upper left arm and dug out a healing potion, dodging all the while. Popping open a few of the healing potions still in his body, he darted over to Mrs Weasley. "Take this!" He opened the healing potion a tiny amount and thrust it into her hand. "It's a healing potion!"

Exhausted, her face pale from the blood loss and pain, she gave him her thanks and popped it in her mouth. Tonks and Aberforth appeared, Tonks casting the spell that took Mulciber down. A burst of green light flashed in the corner of Harry's eye, but it was too late for him to do anything but watch helplessly as Tonks fell, killed by Dolohov. 

Ginny, Mrs Weasley, Aberforth and Harry turned on the Death Eater and he ran. Harry, not caring that the healing potions hadn't finished making their way through his blood stream, gave chase, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Dolohov cast curse after curse at Harry over his shoulder as he ran. Wishing he had his glasses, Harry tried to get as close as he could to get a clear shot, but, without any shoes to protect his feet, the debris on the floor pierced through his skin and slowed him considerably. Dolohov led him on a twisted path through the castle, farther and farther away from the main battle, but Harry didn't care. He'd finish the rest of the Death Eaters off later. Dolohov needed to die for what he did. Now.

Suddenly, the world exploded. A huge bang ripped away Harry's hearing, and dust and falling stone filled his eyes until there was just him in darkness.

For a moment, there was nothing and he thought that surely he must've had the sensory deprivation spell cast on him, but pain danced throughout his body and pounded in his head. Harry blinked open his eyes and the cotton filling in his head cleared somewhat. Stone met his gaze and when he glanced from side to side, all he could see was stone. It appeared that he was trapped in a small tunnel only slightly larger than he was. Coughing, trying to shake away the cloudiness that still plagued him, Harry twisted his head around until he spotted a small sliver of light through cracks in the stones on the left. 

"Potter was here," said a rough voice, hazy through Harry’s still ringing ears. "Help me find him."

"Don't bother," said the other and Harry could imagine the smirk on the lips. "Just pour this around and we'll light the whole thing on fire. When - or if - he comes out, we'll get him."

Harry kicked up his legs to move and slammed them into stone along with his head, sending a flash of pain behind his eyes. His right arm refused to move and, for the first time, Harry realised why. It was pinned in a small break in the stones. His whole forearm was nothing but pain and he couldn't move his fingers. He had no idea if he had his wand or not. 

" _Accio wand!_ " It struck his fingers, but he couldn’t move them enough to grasp it and it fell, clattering against stone.

The smell of smoke ignited the flames in his belly and fear clawed at his insides, even as he reminded himself that he'd trained for this with Snape. Placing his left hand flat against the stone crushing his arm, Harry whispered the Featherlight charm and, without a wand, tried to lift the stone. 

It wouldn't budge.

He'd have to charm them all, but he couldn't charm the ones he couldn't see, the important ones that pressed down on the very top of the pile of rubble.

Heat filled the air and red and gold light burst through the cracks. The smoke thickened, making it impossible to see where one stone began and the next ended, but he did his best, touching every single stone he could reach, casting on all of them. It was hopeless, but he had to try, he had to fight until someone came to help him or he found a way to escape. 

Smoke chased away the air and filled his lungs, causing his eyes to tear up and making him cough. He'd been prepared to die, but not like this! Any way but this! 

"Snape," he choked as the flames crept up on his feet, singeing the soles. He needed Snape, he couldn't do it on his own.

No, that wasn't true. Snape had prepared him for a possible situation such as this. What he needed was to think like Snape: quick, clever, and methodical. How would Snape escape this? He'd stay calm and _think_.Grabbing his right arm with his left, Harry cast _Brackium Emendo_ on himself, concentrating hard on the outcome Lockhart had achieved with the spell. Some of the pain in his hand eased and, with care, he was able to pull his boneless, mangled mess of an arm out from between the stones and shove it down the tunic, using a sticking charm to attach it to his side so that it wouldn't flop around while he was fighting.

With his left hand, he Summoned his wand and cast a Bubblehead charm on himself. Another charm blocked the flames rushing at his feet. Rolling over onto his stomach, he gripped his wand with his left hand and blasted through the boulders with a spell he hadn’t dared try wandlessly: " _Ruptum Petras!_ " He cast a shield charm immediately after and tensed, ready to roll out of the way of any Killing Curses, but the Dolohov and his Death Eater companion had spent themselves, for their curses bounced off his shield. Lowering the shield just long enough to cast _Sectumsempra_ , he watched as they both fell before he toppled the other wall on top of them.

Using his right elbow, and casting _Aguamenti_ in a fruitless attempt to put out the fire, Harry clawed his way out of the wreckage of the tunnel as best he could with only a left arm. As fast as he could when running through rubble, he raced back to the Great Hall, to the turmoil as the battle still raged on.

Lucius Malfoy.

The Death Eater was just a few handspans away from him, battling both Remus and Flitwick. Even though both wizards were challenging him skilfully, Malfoy's wand was already casting, " _Avada Kedavra_ ". The words spilled like venom from his lips as the spell came straight at Harry.

"NO!"

Before Harry had a chance to react, a streak of brown flew between him and the Killing Curse.

Remus!

Malfoy forgotten, Harry flew to Remus's side. It was too late. Remus's eyes had lost their shine; the kindness, the warmth were replaced with a cloudy, dark film. A cold stillness fell over Harry. This wasn't supposed to happen! He was supposed to save them! 

Malfoy laughed and Harry glanced up just in time to see a jet of green light sink into Lucius's chest. Icy blue eyes widened in realisation before he tumbled to the floor. 

Another spell raced towards Harry and he jumped to his feet, reluctantly leaving Remus as he whirled to face his newest attacker. On and on the battle raged, a few of the Death Eaters giving up and turning themselves in, but most of them fighting as long as they could or fleeing out of the Hall, onto the castle grounds. 

Harry continued to cast spells and evade them, all the while jumping over the dead bodies of friends and foes alike. Screams and yells blurred into bone-rattling white noise. Time crawled on and Harry couldn't tell whether five minutes or five hours had passed since he had killed Tom.

It wasn't until after they'd chased away the giants and the rest of the Dementors that Harry stopped his hunt for Death Eaters and started searching for Snape. Exhausted as Harry was, he wasn't about to give up hope of finding Snape alive. He crisscrossed the castle grounds and even part of the Forbidden Forest looking for any form that could remotely resemble Snape's. With the light fading and running out of ideas about were to look, Harry headed back to the castle. He raced through Hogwarts shouting Snape's name and shrugged off all hands that tried to stop him in his search. Not even the house-elves knew where Snape was. As he stared around the empty potions lab, Harry realised he couldn't find Snape without serious help. Meeting Ron and Hermione at the entrance to the Great Hall, Harry pleaded, "Help me find Snape. Or Narcissa or Draco." They'd know where Voldemort had attempted to kill Snape.

"They've found him," said Hermione, her cheeks glistening wet with tears.

"Where?" asked Harry, glancing around the room. Why hadn't Snape come to him?

His eyes tired, Ron said, "His body is with the others in the Great Hall."

_**NO!** _

Harry ran.

"Harry!" Hermione called.

Harry ignored her, racing into the Great Hall, darting down the rows of tables lined up against the walls where the dead were being laid out. Tonks. Remus. Fred. Colin Creevey. No.

He couldn't take it. No.

He tore past the tables, past everyone who'd come to aid him. Snape was nowhere to be found. Harry's momentary elation was quickly squashed by the realisation that he'd not yet checked the Death Eater side of the room.

His heart pounding in his ears, his legs feeling as though they would give out any second, Harry stumbled to Snape's side, his stomach twisting into tight knots. 

The lank, greasy hair hung limp around the sallow face. His sharp black eyes were closed and his face oddly relaxed - more so than Harry had ever seen it before. His neck had been ripped open, the blood black around the edges of the wound. 

"I need a Healer!" Harry yelled as he used his wand to rip off the bottom of his tunic, wishing desperately that he knew more healing spells and that both of his hands were working. Turning his attention back to Snape, Harry told him, "You can't die on me!"

He wrapped Snape's neck in the cloth, then yelled to the hall, "I NEED A HEALER! WHERE THE FUCK IS A HEALER?!"

If only he knew which of the bumps in Snape's arm was a healing potion!

A Healer hurried over. "What's wrong?" he asked, his wand out and ready. 

"You have to help him!" Harry gently opened his makeshift bandage, showing him the wound on Snape's neck. "He needs healing and blood replenishing potions."

Hermione and Ron hustled over, both panting, as the Healer waved his wand over Snape's neck, his face growing tighter and tighter by the second.

"He's dead," he said, lowering his wand.

"No," argued Harry. "He has this potion- You have to help him!"

Hermione placed her hand on Harry's arm. "Come on, Harry," she said as if he were an infant having a tantrum. "There's nothing more you can do."

"He's not dead!" Harry shouted, jerking his arm away from Hermione's hand. Why wouldn't any of them listen? "You have to help him! He needs to be healed!"

Shaking his head, the Healer turned away. 

Jumping to his feet, Harry darted forward, snatched the Healer's bag, and dumped the contents to the floor. Dropping to his knees, he searched through the mess, trying to find the healing and blood replenishing potions. 

He couldn't find them fast enough and Snape was dying.

With nothing else to do, Harry aimed his wand at his right artery and cast a cutting spell. Ignoring the pain, he dug his fingers into his flesh, trying to find and pull out the capsule of healing potion hidden within his body. 

Ron was shouting his name, Hermione was screaming, the pain in his arm blinding, but he didn't care. Ripping out the capsule, he popped it open with his mouth and thrust it into Snape's wound. 

He'd just cast the cutting spell on his right thigh when strong hands grabbed him, forcing him to the floor. He fought them as best he could, yelling for Snape to be healed, but there were too many of them, and the blood loss was leaving him dizzy. 

They poured some potion into his wound, but rather than a healing potion, it was a sedative. He battled it as best he could, but it quickly stripped his consciousness away. Grabbing Hermione's arm, Harry gasped, "Help him. Help him," as he faded into darkness.

~

Harry woke to the bright lights of St Mungo's and Ginny holding his normal-looking right arm. 

"Hullo," she said, smiling softly, her eyes red and rimmed in tears. "Feeling better?"

How had his arm been mended so quickly? Apparently noticing the focus of his gaze, Ginny said, "You were unconscious for nearly fourteen hours."

He ached everywhere and his tongue felt like sandpaper, but he managed to rasp out, "Snape."

The corners of Ginny's mouth pulled up in a sad smile. "The funeral's today," she said softly.

"He's not dead."

Ginny left the chair and slid over to lie on the bed beside Harry. "Harry, please. I need you to be completely honest with me. No matter what you tell me, I'll still love you. I'll still want to be with you. Can you be honest with me? Completely honest if I ask a question?"

His heart filled with ice, he said, "What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, her brown eyes never leaving his, she said, "I know you say you were in that prison for months and I don't doubt you. The papers said that, but they also said a lot of things that we weren't sure we could believe. Oh, Harry!" She clutched his hand. "Did Snape rape you? Please." She squeezed his hand. "I won't think differently of you if he did."

She knew. She knew. How had she guessed? What did the papers say? They didn't have pictures, did they? His stomach roiled and he thought he was going to be sick. He could never tell her the truth. Despite what she’d said, he knew she'd think differently. Who would respect a bloke who got raped? His throat dry, Harry said, "No."

Ginny bit her lip, her features twisting. She didn't believe him. She knew he was lying. Fuck! What could he say to convince her?

She spoke before he did. "It's just-" she said, her eyes darting over his face. "The papers said you were made into a sex slave. I didn't believe it. But . . . when we had sex.... And the Healer said that there were-" Her face screwed up tightly and she had to blurt the words out. "There were signs of anal penetration!"

He'd fucked things up so badly. He'd been so terrible at sex, she'd known. He wanted to sink into the covers and never emerge. With no defence or escape route, he had to admit, "We had sex."

Her eyebrows still tightly knit, she nodded.

He had to admit to some of it, but he couldn't admit to all of it. Looking at Ginny's shirt rather than her, he said, "But it wasn't rape. There was this Death Eater - Avery - who wanted to rape me and I- I beat the shit out of him. He hated me. He hated Snape. Snape was worried about what he'd try to do, especially since he was demanding to be my guard. Snape decided to 'claim' me. I agreed because I wouldn't have to worry about harassment. But- I consented! Snape was careful not to hurt me. He didn't want to. He hated having sex with me. He only did it because it was the only way to keep those bastards away. I would've roughed up anyone who tried anything with me - just like I did Avery. Snape couldn't afford to Obliviate all of them, and he didn't want to see me tortured because I beat up a Death Eater. Our cover would've been blown. We both hated it. It was terrible. But we had no choice." Harry plucked at the sheet then added, "Snape later killed Avery, when Avery suspected Snape and I were planning to destroy Voldemort."

Finally meeting her eyes, Harry said, "I'm so sorry, Ginny. I wanted to wait to be with you. I wouldn't have done it if-"

"It's okay," she interrupted. "I understand. Just as long as he didn't force you. I'd never forgive him if he had."

"No, never." Even if he could stand to let her know, how could he explain it without looking mental? He'd fallen in love with his rapist. Tom had been right, he was fucked up. They'd lock him away in St Mungo's if they knew the truth. 

"It's all over now," she said, reassuringly. "Most of the Death Eaters were killed in the battle. They're interrogating the remaining ones now." Ginny sat up. "Let's see if you can leave. I think it would be good for you to attend Snape's funeral. I know, I know, you don't think he's dead. We had them run all the diagnostic spells on him, Harry. He's not using a potion. I'm afraid he's gone." 

Snape wasn't dead. Of course they wouldn't find a potion - the Potions Master was far too good for them to trace his steps. Knowing Snape, he probably had something even better than the Draught of Living Death. However, if Harry argued that, they'd lock him up. Besides, Snape needed his wand back. Harry let Ginny call a Mediwizard over and signed the necessary papers.

At the Burrow, Mrs Weasley found Harry some black robes. He couldn't stand to look at her - not when she was carrying a tissue and constantly dabbing at her eyes. He knew from experience that the worst part of death wasn't the instant of death. It normally came later, sneaking up on you when you least expected it. On Harry's birthday after Sirius's death, he had been antsy all day and he couldn't figure out why. It wasn't until he was lying in bed, trying to sleep, that he realised why. He was waiting for Sirius's letter. The birthday greeting that would never come. Not this year or ever again.

The Burrow was already a sombre place, but it would be even worse at Christmas when there'd be one less pile of presents, one less occupied chair at the table, and memories of Fred everywhere, infusing what had once been a happy holiday with insurmountable grief. Already, Harry couldn't look at George without feeling that he'd been cleaved in two.

He just wanted to get away. To leave the gravity of heartache behind. It took far too long for them to leave and travel to the graveyard.

Snape's funeral wasn't the only one held that day. His was a small, dismal affair attended only by Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and a few Aurors, who were there as guards. What they were guarding, Harry didn't know. 

Speeches seemed pointless, so Harry simply marched over, pushed open the coffin lid, and placed Snape's wand in his hand. Since the others were watching him, he only let his hand linger against Snape's for an appropriate amount of time and told the sleeping form, "We aren't through yet. I'll see you later." 

They buried him in a simple grave. If Harry had believed that Snape would remain there permanently, he would've demanded something better - something worthy of a hero. 

Hermione hugged him and offered words of comfort. Ron stood grimly, staring at the grave. Somehow, it all seemed surreal. Hadn't they won? Weren't they the victors? They should be celebrating - not attending funeral after funeral.

The next few days passed in a blur. It wasn't until four days later, when Harry finally returned to Grimmauld Place and found Kreacher, that things changed.


	65. Chapter 65

  
Author's notes: Harry is a prisoner of the Dark Lord and Snape his prison guard. Completely cut off from the outside world, Harry struggles to hold himself intact as he is forced to rely on Snape for everything. Yet Snape may not be all that he appears....   


* * *

Here it is, after years of work, the end.

 

As soon as Harry stepped though the front door of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Kreacher appeared.

"Master Harry!" he said with a low bow. "It's good to have you back!"

"Kreacher!" Harry couldn't resist; he sank to his knees and pulled Kreacher into a tight hug. "Where have you been?"

Kreacher immediately Apparated to the other side of the room, fixing Harry with a glare. Brushing his dirty tunic as if Harry had somehow messed it up, he said, "Waiting, just as Master Harry ordered."

Had he ordered Kreacher to do that? "Why didn't you come when I called?"

Kreacher gave him a look as if he'd just stripped off his clothing and done cartwheels through the hallway. "Master Harry told Kreacher to come only when he had permission."

Harry scratched the back of his neck. Had permission? It made no sense at all. "They took away some of my memories. Can you explain what's happened since I last saw you in this house?"

Kreacher nodded. "When Master Harry left, Kreacher stayed here until he was Summoned. Master Harry told Kreacher that you were safe and that Kreacher should tell Granger and Weasley the same. In the future, Kreacher was to check with Headmaster Phineas before answering any Summons. If Headmaster Phineas agreed that Master Harry had called Kreacher, he went to you, otherwise, he remained at Hogwarts - watching and protecting the students, just as my Master asked. Master Harry Summoned Kreacher for various tasks, the likes of which you asked him to not repeat to anyone - even you. A week ago, Master Harry Summoned Kreacher and told him to remain here for two weeks unless you returned before that. If Master Harry didn't return at the end of those two weeks, Kreacher should try to find you. If you weren't alive, he was to carry on your mission on your behalf."

Snape. It had to be Snape. There was no way he would've set up all that himself. He'd been in prison a week ago. "Are you sure it was me?" he asked.

Kreacher gave him a withering glare. "I know my Master."

"Was Snape around?"

"Headmaster Snape was not in the room to which Master Harry Summoned me, but it is possible he was nearby."

Excited, Harry asked, "Can you take me to where you last saw me?"

"Yes." Kreacher held out his hand. Harry took it, only to find himself Apparated into blackness. Pulling out his wand, he cast, " _Lumos_." Light shone from the end of his wand, illuminating a small, crammed room full of boxes. A door in one wall was the only exit. 

His heart pounding, Harry opened it, and stepped into a cupboard with another door before him. He knew what lay beyond that door, even with only the light from his wand. His mouth dry, he said, "Go on home, Kreacher. I'll be there shortly." 

When he heard the crack of house-elf Apparition, he placed his hand on the doorknob. His heart pounded in his ears and a tremor ran through him. For a moment, he thought that maybe some doors shouldn't be opened. That thought lasted just for a second; then, eagerly, he opened the door and stepped into the room he'd know anywhere. 

Snape's bedroom.

He was back in the prison. 

Harry ran to the Potions Lab, slamming open the doors with a spell as he ran so he wouldn't waste a single second. He pounded down the steps, jumping the last few, and took a glimpse around the lab, only to find the room empty. 

Turning around, Harry ran back to the house. "SNAPE!" He ran into the kitchen. "SNAPE!" The practice room. "SNAPE!" The throne room. "SNAPE!" Even the laundry room. "SNAAAAPE!"

Grabbing the door of the laundry room for support, Harry panted. Where could Snape be? 

Inside his cell, with every single place explored, Harry collapsed on his bed, his mind racing through possible scenarios. What had happened? Snape had known Voldemort was trying to kill him. He wouldn't have been so foolish as to actually get himself killed. But why had he left? Why did he vanish from sight? Was he worried that Harry wouldn’t be able to protect him? Had Tom been lying about his affections, only telling Harry what he thought Harry wanted to hear? Maybe Snape hadn't loved him after all. Maybe it had all been some trick designed to keep Harry loyal to him until the end. Maybe Snape had been Tom all along.

Not knowing what else to do, Harry slid off the bed and lifted the mattress to find his books. All the books had been removed and only one remained - _Frankenstein_ , with a parchment tucked inside the front cover. Next to _Frankenstein_ sat his parents’ photo album, the missing half of Lily's letter to Sirius as well as the photo of Lily that had been torn from a bigger photo, and the Marauder's Map.

So. This was it. This was the end. 

Snape held his secrets so tightly, the fact that he’d relinquished them could only mean either he had died, or he never intended to come back.

Snape was gone. 

Forever.

Snape would never talk to him again. Never again would he see Snape moving around the kitchen, his long, elegant fingers dicing and preparing ingredients. He'd never arch a lofty eyebrow at Harry and call him 'stupid' again when he said or did something dumb. Snape would never tease him, never read to him again, never bark at him to move faster or _think_. There'd be no more training sessions and, no matter what happened, Snape wouldn't be there with potions and words to repair the damage and set Harry right again.

_That fucking bastard!_

How could he leave? Why did he leave? Was Harry supposed to have taken the potion? Why did Snape have to keep all those secrets? Was he afraid of being put into Azkaban? Had he just been playing with Harry's affections? That selfish, cowardly prick. He _hated_ Snape. He deserved to die for what he’d done to him. If Snape had wanted things to end differently, he should've been open and honest from the start. If he was dead, it was his own damn fault, that stupid arsehole. 

Grabbing all the items but _Frankenstein_ , Harry shoved them into his robes. He kicked the bed, which did nothing but hurt his toe. Glancing around the room, he could see nothing but Snape. Snape sitting in his chair. Snape standing in front of the sink, replacing the toiletries. Snape on the bed, kissing him, stroking him, holding him-

Shoving the mattress onto the floor, Harry retrieved _Frankenstein_ with a shaking hand. Clutching it to his chest, he marched upstairs, back to Snape's bedroom. Lying on the bed, breathing in the smell of Snape, he opened the book to remove the note. There, on the page with the note was an inscription drawn in a script Harry would recognise anywhere because of how similar it was to his own.

_Happy Birthday Sev! Be careful that you don't end up like Victor.  
With love, Lily_

Tom hadn't been lying. Snape had loved her. Harry's heart sank to his stomach. Maybe Snape had never loved _him_ at all.

His fingers barely moving, Harry unfolded the note.

_Harry,  
I will use small words so that even a dunderhead like you will be able to understand me._

Harry couldn't help but laugh. Trust Snape to find a way to insult him even after he'd gone. There was no bite in the words, just a strange sort of affection, and that affection was enough to break through the wall of ice that had built around Harry's heart since the day of the battle. 

Carefully, Harry laid the letter to the side so that it wouldn't get wet, then turned his head into Snape's pillow and wept. He wept for Snape - for how he'd suffered. He wept for Fred, for Remus, for Tonks, and for everyone else - those dead and, even more, those left living and attempting to put the pieces of their lives back together even after all that had happened. Finally, at the end, after he had gone through everyone else, he cried for himself. For those three months of pain, loneliness, and fear. For everything that had happened to him and everything and everyone he'd lost. 

After an unknown amount of time, when his tears had dried and his sinuses and head hurt, he sat up and retrieved the letter. As he opened the letter, a piece of parchment fell out. Ignoring it for the moment, he read the letter:

_There is no point to digging up the past, but if you do, everything I did, I did for my own reasons. You bear no responsibility for any of it and, if you insist on taking some, you deserve every ounce of misery you get. Likewise, I expect you to live the life you want to live. If you let yourself stand in your own way, you're every bit the fool I always thought you were._

Refolding the letter, he picked up the bit of parchment, only to see a few recipes, including one for the bread that he'd made with Snape. The words were jotted in Snape's familiar, bold script, but there was something odd about them, about how they didn't fit the parchment exactly when Snape was such a precise man. Brushing his hand over the parchment, Harry said, "Reveal your secrets," as he cast all the revelation spells he knew.  
Nothing happened. 

He tried again, "Severus Snape. Harry Potter. _Frankenstein_. _Billy Budd_. Mangoes."

What could it be? What was something that he and Snape shared that no one else would ever think of saying around a bit of parchment with recipes? Something that was only understood between the two of them?

Then, he realised. Taking a breath, he whispered, "Lily Evans."

Before his eyes, swirls of letters coalesced on the edges of the parchment, then slowly formed into words, overlapping the recipes. Harry couldn't believe what he saw. He found a list of memories of Lily. Blown away, he skimmed through them, amazed at the detail and length of recollection. Everything from how Snape had met his mother, to her food likes and dislikes, to how she brewed. Lily and Snape had been mates before and during Hogwarts? How had he never known? Why hadn't Remus or Sirius ever said anything? Why hadn't Snape?  
At the bottom of the list was another note. 

_Your mother was just as strong-willed and stubborn as you. You carry a lot of guilt in your life, but don't ever have a moment of guilt over her death. She died for you because she loved you, and if she hadn't loved you like that, she wouldn't have been Lily. To wish to change that would be to wish to change her._

"And you?" Harry asked the parchment. Slipping it into the refolded letter, he tucked it back into _Frankenstein_ and carefully enclosed the book in his robes. After searching through the house one last time, Harry left through the front door, stepping into bright sunshine. 

A soft hoot and a flurry of feathers announced the presence of Mephistopheles, who came to rest on Harry's shoulder.

Harry reached up and stroked the soft feathers. "Ready to leave here?" he asked the owl.

The huge eyes blinked, then closed. 

With one hand holding onto the owl, Harry Apparated back to the UK, heading towards Hogwarts. Mephistopheles remained perched on his shoulder as he sought out the one person who could give him at least some of the answers he needed.

Although it had been some time since the battle, Hogwarts was still in a state of disarray. No one questioned his arrival, but then, it seemed there were few places barred to him in the Wizarding world. After shaking hands with far too many people who wanted to speak to their hero, Harry made his way to the Headmaster's Office.

Standing before the gargoyle at the only place in Hogwarts that was still well-guarded, Harry simply said, "Dumbledore!" because that's who he most wanted to see. Surprisingly, it worked and, when he stepped into the office, a near deafening, thunderous round of applause greeted him. All the old Headmasters were standing in their portraits and clapping. A few were cheering and dancing, most were singing his praises.

But, even with the ones who were jumping on their chairs, or running through other portraits, there was only one who held Harry's gaze. Dumbledore stood in the largest portrait directly behind the headmaster's chair, a grin on his face even as tears flowed down his cheeks.

For the first time since the battle, Harry couldn't help but grin. 

When the noise died down, Dumbledore called out, "Congratulations! You brave, brave man."

Hurrying over to the portrait, Harry said, "There's so much I need to ask you." Although it never would have occurred to him before to guard his conversations from portraits, Harry waved his wand, setting up privacy wards. Snape would've been proud.

"Yes," said Dumbledore, gravely, his bright blue eyes watching Harry's wand strokes. "I'm afraid that my plans were not what I had hoped. Fortunately, Severus picked up the pieces."

Hope flared in Harry's chest. "He was on our side all along?"

Dumbledore gave a non-committal shrug and said, "As much as Severus can be on anyone's side."

Dropping into a chair, frustration getting the better of him, Harry couldn't help but say, "He's gone! He's gone and I don't know if he's dead or just hiding! I don't even know what to think about him! I talked to Tom - the Horcrux inside of me - and-" 

His blue eyes widening behind his half-moon glasses, Dumbledore asked, "You did?"

Harry nodded. "That's why I escaped the prison. Once he revealed himself, I knew I had to die. Tom said that Snape loved me because he was in love with my mum. Is that true? Did Snape love her?" 

He had a mountain of evidence, but as he'd travelled to Hogwarts, he realised he couldn't accept it as fact. Not when it was said by Tom who had twisted truths until they were unrecognisable. They had been friends, that Harry believed, but he hoped that was the extent of it.

"I'm afraid I'm sworn to silence on that account" said Dumbledore, apologetically, taking a seat himself.

Sworn to silence? That didn't sound good. His stomach churning, Harry held out _Frankenstein_. "He gave me this. It's a book my mum gave to him. He gave me this note." Harry pulled it out from the book. "It's full of memories of her. Tom said that Snape sent Voldemort to kill me and my father-"

"Tom lied."

Harry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and sagged against the chair in relief. "He didn't cause the death of my parents out of revenge?"

"No," said Dumbledore. "Lord Voldemort didn't single out your mother until after he'd heard the prophecy. Although I cannot say for certain, it's possible Severus never knew your mother was pregnant when he first overheard the prophecy."

"He was loyal to you then?" asked Harry.

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, not then."

Harry chewed his thumbnail. The only person who could have wanted that information kept secret was Snape. Snape had made Dumbledore promise not to tell anyone about his love for Lily. Snape had loved Lily. Her death had spurred him to fight Voldemort. 

It was both what he wanted to hear and never wanted to hear. He'd hoped that Snape had been Dumbledore's man all along, but to know that Snape had loved him only because he resembled his dead mother....

Bile rising in his throat, Harry asked, "He only cared for _her_ then?" It was sick how much he hated Snape for that. Sick how much he hated _her_ for that, even though she was dead.

Dumbledore thoughtfully laced his fingers. "I don't believe so. His Patronus - the doe - was a reflection that Lily always remained in his thoughts, but-"

"That was _him_?" Harry gaped at Dumbledore. 

His brilliant blue eyes sparkling, Dumbledore nodded. "He never wavered in his determination to protect you - even as he complained to me about you."

"He had your portrait," said Harry, the pieces falling into place. "He put it by the bed when I was catatonic after Voldemort tortured me. I thought I was dreaming, but I was talking to you, wasn't I?"

"Yes, he placed my frame beside your bed and coordinated with me to protect your friends, the students of Hogwarts, and arranged to do what needed to be done." The twinkle fading from his eyes, Dumbledore suddenly looked older and more tired than Harry had ever seen before. "Can you forgive a foolish old man his mistakes? If I had known-"

"Don't talk like that," said Harry, cutting Dumbledore off with a wave of his hand. "I know things could've been better, but they could've been worse. _Loads_ worse." And then, to change the subject, he said, "What I don't understand is how I lived. I didn't take the potion! I let Voldemort kill me!"

"And that," said Dumbledore, "made all the difference."

Confused, Harry said, "Was I never supposed to take the second potion?"

Dumbledore sighed. "I'm afraid I can't answer that. What Severus intended with that potion I cannot say. You lived in that moment because of a mistake Lord Voldemort made - one that proved very costly for him."

Although he didn't quite understand all the details, Harry said after a pause, "He took my blood."

"Precisely!"

"He took my blood and my mum's protection," said Harry as he sat up straighter. "And I've got all three of the Deathly Hallows."

The words 'Deathly Hallows' were enough to make Dumbledore look briefly like a small child caught in an act of mischief. 

"If only I'd had the faith in you that Severus did! Can you forgive me for not trusting you?" Moisture filled Dumbledore's eyes. "I feared you would make the same mistakes that I had."

"What mistakes?" asked Harry, startled by the sudden tears in the Headmaster's eyes. "Even if I had had them sooner - it wouldn't have helped me."

"You've always been the better man! I sought a way to conquer death."

"You tried to use the Resurrection Stone," guessed Harry. 

"I was a fool," said Dumbledore. "I wasn't worthy to unite the Hallows like you."

"If I thought it could bring him back," admitted Harry, shooting a glance back at Snape's empty portrait frame, "I might've done the same. He's with you, isn't he?"

"I'm afraid I can't say," said Dumbledore. "I'm simply a painting. His frame did appear on that fateful day-" He waved his hand and Harry turned around to stare at the black canvas. "-but I've never seen him in the portrait. I'm afraid the frame only appears if the subject dies. However, that doesn't mean he _remained_ dead."

Snape was alive, he was sure of it. Harry stood, a surge of determination coursing through him. "I'm going to find him," he promised.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, his eyes troubled. "I think it would be best if you didn’t."

Startled, Harry could only ask, "Why? He saved my life."

"No," Dumbledore said. " _You_ saved your life. I appreciate what he did to help you, but I feel it is best if you two remain parted. If nothing else, remember that if he wanted to stay close to you, he would've chosen to do so."

"Don't worry," Harry assured him. "I'm not going to take off to chase after him, at least not yet. There's too much I need to do here. For one, we need to get Hogwarts repaired and ready before school starts. Mostly though, I want to take a little break. Maybe I'll even go on Holiday. There's so much I need to catch up on." He looked at Dumbledore meaningfully. "So much I want to learn about people. I plan on coming back later with questions I'd like answered." 

Dumbledore nodded, then waved him away with a little shoo of his hand. "Go attend to the living. I'll always be here, waiting and ready to speak."

Harry stood, and then remembered to say, "I got rid of what was inside the Snitch. As to the Wand, I'll be giving that up soon. Draco gave me my wand back and I much prefer that."

"A wise choice," said Dumbledore.

"I'll see you later," said Harry, giving a little wave to Dumbledore as he removed the wards.

As he passed by Snape's portrait, he let his fingers trail over the frame. Leaning forward, he whispered, "You can't hide from me forever. I'll find you."

Straightening up and filled with a new confidence, Harry decided to head straight to the Burrow. It was time he told Ginny everything - starting from the very beginning. 

The End

 

...of Nights of Gethsemane. _Invictus_ [NoG from Snape's POV] is just beginning and the epilogue is yet to come! 

[Here](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sQJ51gRr7A8) is an unfinished music video I made that you might want to watch between the two.

I want to thank you for reading this far and helping me through my first fic. I feel as though I've learned a lot from writing this and I can't wait to keep writing more!


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